One Hell of a Ruckus
by sasahara17
Summary: A series of seemingly unrelated events unfurl on the 'Madame Liberty'. Hostage situations, nefarious plots, and ten million in a briefcase… amidst it all Beatrice encounters a most peculiar boy named Czeslaw Meyer. Xover with 'Black Lagoon' and 'Baccano'
1. A retired cyborg gets a visitor

ALL ABOARD THE '**MADAME LIBERTY**'

_Five Star Luxury Cruise Liner_ departing Bali for a seven day round trip in South East Asia!  
The perfect vacation for families and holiday makers of all ages!

- Award winning _five star service_

- Award winning_ restaurants _and_ chefs_

- Boasts a three-story grand lobby

- A _ballroom_ and _dining hall_

- 3 million dollar _art gallery_

- 700-seat _three deck theater_

- _Swimming pool_ and _Casino_

And more!

We'd love to show you new and exciting ways to make memories!

Brought to you by _Gandor Brothers Luxury Liners Ltd_

--

--

**Disclaimer**

Baccano! is the rightful property of Ryohgo Narita

Black Lagoon is the rightful property of Rie Hiroe

Gunslinger Girl is the rightful property of Yuu Aida

--

--

**Sometime in 2010**,

--

When the eventual degradation of her body came, Triela Hartmann was thankful that her eyesight was the first thing to go. Sure she was virtually blind without her glasses on and it forced her into an early retirement, but Triela had seen worse fates to befall a dying SWA cyborg.

Horrid memerious of Angelica's mental facilities slowly falling out from under her, Rico's agonizing wails as the blonde one day woke to the harsh reality she could not walk, Henrietta meeting her demise in a freak training accident of all things... those horrible memories of her sisters giving in to the inevitable still gave Triela nightmares to this day.

As the last remaining first generation cyborg still alive Triela knew that she should count herself fortunate among her sisters, especially since she logically should have passed on long before any of them should have. However Triela knew that her days were numbered. Despite the fact she and Victor had now been taken off the active roster and were enjoying an all-expenses-paid blissful retirement in Orlando, Florida, the shadow of Triela's impending death hung mournfully over the SWA's once most intrepid duo.

Still, Triela did concede that camping out in a five star hotel suite next to one of the world's best theme parks with the person she loved most for the remainder of her days wasn't as bad as fates went. Except of course, her inevitable death and everything.

A pleasant uneventful retirement...

...right up until Triela came face to face with a ghost.

-=-

Triela rubbed her eyes several times and even went as far to check her glasses to make sure the apparition in the doorway was for real. When she had heard the hard knocks at the hotel suite door she'd assumed it was Victor who had stepped out to meet an 'old friend' for dinner. Instead upon opening the door, Triela was greeted to the sight of a small brunette girl wheeling along a trolley bag who looked exactly like her old comrade Beatrice.

Except of course it couldn't be, because the biggest part of Beatrice anyone found after the explosion that disintegrated her friend three years ago was a pair of shoes that had definately seen better days.

Triela must have checked her glasses three times before the 'ghost' cleared her throat and spoke up. "Hello Triela. Your glasses aren't broken. It is me. Beatrice Hagen." The unmistakable voice of Beatrice said. Triela whose eyes opened wide enough to become saucers. "Well? Are you going to invite me in? Not even a hello? It has been three years."

"B-B-B-Beatrice!?" The taller cyborg exclaimed in complete utter shock. "But you-! You-! I saw you-! You're DEAD." The smaller girl, looking very well for someone who had supposedly been next to a giant bomb as it went off after being shot, could only frown as she watched Triela become deathly pale.

"Now this is unexpected. I thought she should have handled this better." Beatrice murmured to herself.

"You were blown up!"

"Yes I was, and it was very painful."

"You were blown sky high, and all you can say is that 'it was very painful'?" Triela asked flabergastered at what she was seeing.

Beatrice scowled in annoyance. "You'll be surprised just how many people have asked me what it feels like to die that way. 'How did it feel to get reduced to component atoms Beatrice'? It gets old, fast. Anyway, that is not the reason that I have come... are you even listening to me Triela?"

Unfortunately for Beatrice, Triela had not been listening. "That's it. It's finally happened. Something's gone wrong in my brain and I've lost it. Now I'm seeing dead people." Triela moaned sorrowfully as she realized that the inevitable had finally happened. "My sanity just went and now I'm haluci..."

"Triela."

"..nating! I knew it would happen sooner or later. I thought I had it lucky when it was just my eyes, but nooooo, I had to go insane because of some chemical imbalance in my brain! This is the pits! Next I'll see dancing..."

"TRIELA."

"...bears in the hallway. Or Victor and Ratiel getting married. Or Jean in a dre- wait not let's not go there. Think the whole dormitory showing up to welcome me to heaven. Wait... What if I'm already de-"

Beatrice slapped Triela in the face hard. "Triela. A very good number of people, myself included, have gone through a lot of trouble to set up this meeting and _everything that comes after_. You're a world class cyborg assassin, I know for a fact you've seen weirder things than this! Show some of your legendary backbone and pull yourself together!"

"...I don't remember you being this expressive." Triela mumbled as she rubbed her jaw, completely bewildered by the turn of events.

"Three years is a long time Triela. People change, especially when the person in question stops taking their conditioning and begins haning around a world class therapist. Now are you going to get out of the doorway and let me in or not?"

"If this is some kind of a joke..." Triela said as she shifted nervously and made an inviting gesture to the smaller girl.

Beatrice gave Triela a knowing smile as she stepped through the door. "Trust me Hartmann, the last thing this is, is a joke. If anything, my one visit might just change your whole outlook on life."

-=-

Triela cautiously checked out her new guest as she sat down on one of the chairs around the suite's windowside table. "I'm still not convinced you are who you say you are."

"Fair enough. The night before the mission I died, I gave you a stuffed bear in a doctor's outfit as a thank you present for saving my life on the _Liberty_. You named it '_Ratiel_' on the spot after 'my_ mother_' and then threatened me on pain of death should I tell anyone about it. Proof enough for you?"

Triela gasped as her eyes involuntary darted over to the stuffed doll in question, hidden among her collection of other furry bears. "I never told anyone about that bear. Not even Victor."

"Well then, if that's proof enough for you, we can get to catching up. I brought wine." Beatrice produced a bottle of wine, a decanter and two glasses from her stroller bag.

"Since when did you drink alcohol?" Triela asked as Beatrice popped the bottle and emptied the red liquid into the decanter. "And should we really be drinking this? We're children."

"Please, underage drinking happens all the time. If it bothers you that much, you can always wait until... don't bother with the medication anymore. It's a waste of time." Beatrice said when Triela took out her nightly dose of medication.

"Beatrice, In case you haven't noticed. I'm dying. I. Need. This."

"No you're not. The pills are what are causing your impaired vision. It was Hillshire's idea to 'retire' you by the way. Meeting you in Italy when I'm officially decuased was a bit of a problem." Beatrice curtly pointed out, causing Triela's jaw to drop. "Like I said, _many_ people have gone through a lot of trouble to get you here."

Triela's eyes went wide. "Wha-What?! What are you playing at, Beatrice?"

As if not even paying attention to Triela, Beatrice gave a low hum at that before turning back to the decanter. "Let it breathe a little. There aren't too many bottles of this left. Just so you know, this bottle is one of the last of its kind; 1942 South Wolfenstein Brewery." Beatrice smiled as if enjoying a private joke. "Best stuff in the world."

"How did you come across something like that?"

Beatrice's smile broke into a full blown grin. "This was generously held on trust for _you_ and Mr. Hartmann by one Mr. Luck Gandor for your help on board the _Madame Liberty_ three years ago."

Triela licked her mouth in disgust as a flood of distasteful memories came flooding back to her. "Yes, I remember that fiasco. Over half of South East Asia's most wanted were involved in that. What's that mission got to do with anything?"

"Everything. How I am sitting before you tonight despite my apparent death, how you're still alive despite all our sister having passed away, why Mr. Gandor wanted me to give you this bottle of wine, what this bottle can do for _you_... everything comes back to the mission we took three years ago." Beatrice stated with a cryptic voice. "Tell me Triela, how much do you know about what happened aboard the _Madame Liberty_?"

"I read the compiled mission reports. I know the entire file inside out."

"The mere fact that you don't know how either of us are still alive already tells me about much you really know. Not that I can really blame you. Reading into the _Madame Liberty_ affair has become something of a hobby of mine, and it took me sixteen months of compiling every account from over two dozen sources to fully understand what just happened on that ship."

Beatrice leaned forward on the table and rested her chin on her hands. "Tell me Triela. While you were so busy trying to rescue the hostages and the ransom money, did you even know that you had unwittingly prevented the theft of a priceless object? And did you know there was one other cyborg on the ship besides the two of us, a deep cover CIA agent so secret she and her handler don't even appear on any official documents?"

"Beatrice, you're enjoying yourself far too much. Okay, I get it. I don't know what happened." Triela sighed. Obviously, Beatrice's 'people change' remark was a gross understatement of the facts if the previously stoic girl knew how to be smug. Just who had she been hanging out with anyway? "Get to the point, don't leave me hanging here."

"Okay then." Beatrice poured the red liquid into the two wineglasses. "Hmm, where should I start?"

--

--

**And so, our story begins!**

--


	2. Two children meet in a fated encounter

--

**Disclaimer**

Baccano! is the rightful property of Ryohgo Narita

Black Lagoon is the rightful property of Rie Hiroe

Gunslinger Girl is the rightful property of Yuu Aida

--

**Chapter 1**

**Two children meet in a fated encounter**

--

--

**Present Time, 2007, 6:30pm, Lagoon Company dock**

--

There were odd scenes. And then there were odd scenes.

Jaws were opened in shock.

Expensive cigars hit the ground.

People were rendered speechless.

Hand phones and digital cameras were snapped open.

A man worried if his company was about to the sued in a big class action.

The dock owner and his insurance woman of a mafia boss were mentally calculating how much these damages would cost.

Perhaps the term 'odd scene' did not do this manmade disaster justice.

A crowd of assorted gangsters, Italian government employees, businessmen, emergency service personnel and innocent bystanders were looking at the view before them in a mix of awe and horror. Most had seen some weird stuff in their lifetimes, but this easily took the cake.

Considering whom some of them were, that was really saying something.

Eventually one of them broke the silence. "New and exciting ways to make memories... Heh, your brochure is sure living up to its promise Luck." A young man joked nervously.

The well dressed gentleman beside him palmed his face. "Urgh. I'm going to have to go see the dock owner. I hope he doesn't bring an action in court for this. Who owns this place?"

The said owner was too preoccupied to even hear the comment. "Fuck… My warehouse… my dock… FUCK!"

"Oh it's you? Never mind then. You sir, will hear from MY Lawyers."

"Dutch, this is where I would normally tell you not to worry about Insurance, but I think this goes far beyond even my considerable powers." A blonde woman in a magenta business suit sighed, stumping out her dropped cigar under her shoe.

"Oh crap, Olga! There's no way we can cover this up!" Another woman wailed in Italian to her similarly distressed companion. "Lorenzo is going to kill us! No wait, he'd fire us. Jean is the one who will kill us!"

The loud crash of something breaking could be heard. It could possibly the dock crane that was knocked over earlier or even one of the cargo crates tumbling over, but with the number of things just plain wrong with this scene, who could possibly tell?

"Firo... This is far worse than the one we took back in '02." A redheaded woman concluded before she palmed her face.

An as the sun set the silhouette of a man in red, hands on his hips in a corny heroic pose, standing triumphantly on the prow of the crashed luxury liner that was sitting on a crushed warehouse and not in the water, signalled the end of this most extraordinary series of auspicious events…

But what on Earth happened to being this about?

--

--

**4 Days Ago, 2007**

--

"Why, hello there!"

The suddenness of the address jolted Beatrice out of her vigil over her protectee. Quickly turning to look at the speaker, she was surprised to see a young child now standing before her. "What are you doing in the corner all by yourself?" The boy asked cheerfully.

Beatrice Hargen, cyborg of the Social Welfare Agency, suddenly felt embarrassed. She was supposed to be keeping watch over Ferro, yet this boy had somehow snuck up right next to her without her noticing! Immediately regarding him as a suspicious character, Beatrice couldn't be too careful especially after they had unexpectedly run into _that_ person, the cyborg quickly gave him a once over… and dismissed him altogether.

He looked to be about ten years old and was dressed in a brown jacket, over a button up striped shirt and light brown trousers. She noted that he was actually shorter than her, especially if he were to take that flat-cap off. Other than that, short dark brown hair, wide round eyes… altogether an unremarkable character. She guessed he was a normal middle to upper class boy, possibly from a sheltered family. Turning her head back to where Ferro was seated on a table on the far end of the deck, Beatrice thought her 'rudeness' would be enough to rebuff the boy. Work was more important, especially with someone as dangerous as _that_ person on board.

"Isn't it lonely all by yourself?" The boy prodded further. "I've been watching you for the last few days. All you do is come up on deck and gaze at the people here with that far off look. Isn't it lonely?"

Beatrice felt her irritation rise. What was she supposed to tell him? The little Italian girl that sat in the corner of the deck was actually an Italian superspy guarding a woman handcuffed to a ten million dollar briefcase? If only Bernado hadn't gone off to enjoy himself in the casino, she wouldn't have to deal with this boy.

"Ah! You just rolled your eyes didn't you?" He giggled.

Beatrice momentarily paused. Was she really that out of it she would do something as mundane as rolling her eyes? Taking her pause as a sign, the boy quickly sat himself beside Beatrice before she could even get in a word. "You're cute, if a bit quiet. What's your name?"

Beatrice found herself getting more and more irate. She couldn't concentrate on her mission. She didn't know how to deal with this annoying kid. There just had to be a distracting casino on board the '_Madame Liberty_'. Had Bernado been here… "Ah! Your lips twitched!"

"Beatrice. My name is Beatrice Hargen. Please leave me alone."

"Beatrice! That's a nice name! For a moment there, I thought you didn't know how to speak English." The boy beamed brightly. "Still, it wouldn't do for someone whose name means 'the bringer of joy' to have such a blank expression on her face does it?"

"The bringer of joy?" He knew that off the top of his head. Beatrice could actually admit she was impressed by the boy's knowledge.

"Yup, that's why I thought it was a nice name." She didn't know about bringing joy, but Beatrice was very adept as brining pain and death. Bringer of joy... what nonsense. "Anyway, since you were here all by yourself, I thought I'd join you sometime. Being lonely is a terrible thing, especially since this is supposed to be a holiday."

Beatrice glanced around the deck. Anyone even remotely looking like this boy's guardians didn't seem anywhere close by, so no chance of someone dragging this nuisance away from her. He was seriously becoming a distraction to her mission. Still, if a ten year old boy thought her behavior odd, she must obviously be doing something wrong. Perhaps it might be worth keeping him about if only to allay any suspicions. Yes, that was best. Maybe the reason why nobody had approached Ferro yet was because Beatrice was watching her like a hawk.

Suddenly it occurred to Beatrice how conspicuous she must have been.

"Okay. You can sit." Beatrice, for the first time in a long while, attempted to look mildly interested in her new 'companion'. She'd put have to put up with this minor annoyance for a while, but it wasn't anything too bad she couldn't handle.

"Yes!" the boy exclaimed. "We'll be good friends, Beatrice."

Beatrice begged to differ. They lived in completely different worlds. Friendship implied understanding, and there was no why a child like him could even remotely understand her.

Once his usefulness was expended and she'd blended back into the crowd, she'd rebuff this hang on.

--

--

**9 Days Ago, 2007**

--

"It's not often that we deal with a ransom situation," Olga noted. "Especially, one out of the country."

"Aren't you excited Ferro?" Priscilla chimed in. "A seven day cruise aboard a luxury liner…"

"Carrying a briefcase filled with ten-million American dollars." Ferro pointed out sternly as they marched through the corridors of the SWA headquarters. "It's not a vacation Pris. This is a very serious situation."

"Come on Ferro, can't you say you are even a little excited? It's a grand luxury cruise liner we're talking about here? All you have to is make the drop off, and your job is done and you get to enjoy and all expenses paid holiday! Even Olga would spend some time sampling the wine on board. You're not going indulge, even a little?" Priscilla urged.

"No."

At that, Olga and Priscilla gave simultaneous sighs. Trust Ferro to think of nothing but getting the job done.

Four days ago, a prominent Italian senator was kidnapped while on holiday in Bali by an unknown group. Normally, the Italian government frowned upon negotiating with such rouges, but this time the kidnapped man was none other than a good friend of the Minister of Health, a major sponsor of the Social Welfare Agency.

A few 'exceptions' had to be made.

The negotiations went surprisingly quickly, and the sum of the ransom was decided upon just the day before; ten million United States dollars. What was unusual was the manner in which the money was to be paid. Strangely, the kidnappers requested an old fashioned handover of the money. Even stranger, they specifically asked for it to be done on a five star luxury cruise liner, the '_Madame Liberty_'. The details of the exact handover were vague, mostly consisting of 'go there and we'll contact you' and a pair of handcuffs, but other than that it was a fairly normal job.

Go to Bali, get on the '_Madame Liberty_', hand over the money, see if you can find out more about the kidnappers and then come home. The parameters of the mission were fairly clear cut. If all went well, which Ferro was confident it should, then the senator should be back in Italy safe and sound in no time.

Still, she could have done without the while handcuff thing. But orders were orders.

"You know, with an attitude like that, I can see why Lorenzo chose you be the one to carry the case Ferro." Priscilla pouted. "You're the worst workaholic I've ever seen. Even Jean knows when to take a holiday once in a while."

"I accompany Jose whenever he takes Henrietta to Sicily…"

"Which you spend watching out for mafia and non-existent Padania while Jose and 'Etta are playing at the beach." Olga pointed out. Priscilla gave a light cough to cover up the fact she was on the verge of laughing.

Ferro shook her head at her co-workers. She wasn't that bad was she? Sure she's never actually taken a day off since she joined the Agency, but that was because Ferro honestly loved her job. It felt good working to protect her country from injustice and criminals, and she got paid well to do it. Admittedly, she did like her certain proximity to a certain pair of brothers, one of which was another workaholic, but that was beside the point.

"Ferro, my dear, go out and let your hair loose one in a while!" Priscilla said. "You're spending seven days on board a five star cruise ship! So what if you spend one day handing over the money? You still have six days to go. You can't tell me that you'll spend your entire trip just staying in your cabin having room service and planning how to arrest the felons?"

"Maybe."

Olga and Priscilla gave another simultaneous sigh. "You're impossible, Ferro. All that liquor and you won't even touch it." Olga lamented.

Priscilla nodded in agreement. "I'd kill to be on a luxury ship with Hillshire and Bernardo, and I'm not even considering the other hot guys I might meet there."

"This is probably why Lorenzo picked me." Ferro stated. "It's a fair bit of money we've been entrusted, so we need to be ever vigilant while we're there."

Yes, it was a simple job. Take the briefcase, get briefcase to contact, spend the rest of the mission aboard five star cruise ship. It was about as cut and dry as a mission she could get.

When you're that far out at sea guarded by million euro cyborgs, how hard could it be?

--

--

**8 days Ago, 2007**

--

"Ten million dollars?!" Had Revy not been sitting down, she would have fallen flat on her ass. Her loud exclamation had everyone in the Yellow Flag snap about in alarm (and not a bit of interest).

"Yeah, apparently some big shot Italian senator… hic… got himself kidnapped in Bali." Gustavo said as polished off yet another mug of liqueur. "The Italians are going to pay… hic… ten million in ransom money, in a… hic… handover of all things… or so I head."

Revy instantly deflated. "Or so you heard?"

"Well,… hic… Somehow, word got out of this handover. I can tell you… hic… there isn't a single information broker out there who doesn't know about this… hic… fiasco." Gustavo said drunkenly. "Hey Bao… hic… you've heard about it too right?"

The all bartender of the all too infamous Yellow Flag sighed. "That's a fishy story, if I ever heard one. But yeah, I've heard of it. Like you said, everybody has."

"Why didn't they do it some other way?" Revy said. "Isn't a face to face handover on a ship a bit too risky?"

"Dunno. The kidnappers are a bunch of loons if this is accurate. In today's day and age, why do a handover? On a ship which is out at sea for seven days no less? The opportunity for the Italians to find out their identities is quite high."

"Yeah, once the handover is done… bang!" Gustavo giggled. "They've comeback looking for their cash, this time with a lot more… hic… firepower! Get their money back... hic... interest!"

"Well there are problems with this I can see…" Rock noted. "… but with the right people, this shouldn't be too hard to pull off."

"I would have thought so too, until the Social Welfare Agency got involved." Bao said.

"Social Welfare Agency?"

"Yeah, word has the Italian government has a black-ops agency that's dumping a load of crap on the local bad guys. The name finally came out a while ago." Bao explained. "Supposedly, they have inhuman monsters under their employ. Sounds like a load of bull if you ask me, but that's what my sources tell me. 'Inhuman savage beasts' that come straight out your nightmares. Stories about how they don't go down no matter how much you shoot them. Stories about how they wipe out an entire roomful of armed men in the blink of an eye. Inhuman strength, speed and endurance… Fuck, I'm waiting to hear the one were one of them leaps a tall building in a single bound and can freeze water with a single glance."

Rock and Revy gave each other amused looks. "Sounds like Roberta."

"You forgot about the best bit! That the monsters… hic… were children! Modified to extreme levels of evil with genetic mutation… hic…" Gustavo added before he finally passed out from all the alcohol he'd ingested and began to drool on Bao's marvelous polished counter. Revy Rock and Bao were quiet for a full minute, marveling at the absurdity of that statement.

"… Okay, that last part is definitely bull…" Bao snorted. "But there are rumors of child assassins being used. Normally I'd write off that as fanciful rumors, but with the people we've been

getting here… I get a constant reminder of who scary children can be these days every time Eda visits with her brat! Really, taking a kid into a bar... and she calls herself a Sister."

Revy snorted. "Sounds quite farfetched if you ask me. Monster or no monster, I'd still kick the shit out of them, no sweat."

"As improbable as it sounds, the Italian Mafia is so fucking scared of them there must be some truth to it." Bao said. "Anyway, the SWA were negotiating directly with the terrorists, and so they're the ones bring the goods. If Italy's finest are going to be the ones transporting the money, I'd bet my nuts they'll slaughter all the kidnappers once they get their senator back. Getting a good look at the kidnappers goes a long way."

"You're awfully forthcoming with the beans today." Rock observed.

"Yeah, normally I'd have to start waving my cutlass around before you'd even talk." Revy agreed.

Bao shrugged. "Dunno, these guys in black came in and paid every broker in town to regurgitate this drivel. Most of us smile took the money and then forgot all about it. I myself thought it was a prank in bad taste at first. It's even more fanciful than the ones about that monster that went berserk in Jakarta and went around dismembering people a while back. But I did some checking on my own and found that the senator did get kidnapped, with ten million as a ransom."

"And the handover?" Revy said with growing interest.

"Only thing I haven't been able to verify." Bao scoffed. "I did get that a few SWA people arrived in Jakarta yesterday and then caught a flight to Bali. And from the way they were acting, most likely out to blow holes in the kidnappers." Revy deflated. "Then again, the broad with them had herself handcuffed to this suitcase." Bao grinned. Revy groaned when she realized what the bartender was doing.

"So, you guys interested?"

"With the way you're stringing me along, no thanks." Revy groaned. "Who's stupid enough to go all the way to Bali and risk fucking with the Italian government's finest over a 'possible' ten mil-"

It was then that Rock and Revy noticed that they were the only patrons left in the Yellow Flag, the saloon doors still swinging after the hurried exodus of gunmen, mercenaries and bandits rushed out of the bar. You could hear the sounds of a multitude of engines starting up in outside.

It was a wonder Rock and Revy didn't hear the Flag empty out.

That settled it.

You could almost see the light bulb going off in Revy's head.

"Come on Rock! We're behind everyone! Let's get back to the offices and tell Dutch and Benny! We have a boat, so we can catch up!" In moments she was out of the Bar. Rick gave a resigned sigh.

"This is going to be bad isn't it?"

"Don't look at me." Bao chuckled. "As long as my bar doesn't get blown up again, I can't give two shits about how that shitstorm." Rock gave a long groan of resignation. He could already tell; this was going to be one of those adventures. Once Revy got going, there was no stopping her. All that was left was to pitch this crazy idea over to Dutch and Benny, and then it was going to be to be another 'Greenback Jane' in the South China Sea. He could feel it.

"Still, I'd be careful if I were you." Bao said seriously. "Those SWA people aren't ones to be trifled with. I researched the matter myself, and I found there's only a short window in the entire seven day trip for a head on attack. Any longer or at any other time, and you risk having the coastguards of every nation in the South China Sea and Australia breathing up your ass. I don't think anyone here has the manpower to occupy the entire ship in that time so better to have a snatch and grab than try blasting your way in."

"Anything else?" Rock asked.

"Yeah, I don't like this." Bao said worriedly. "The guys who gave this info, seriously wanted it to get out. Something smells, and it ain't my breadth. I'm betting they want people to unleash hell on that ship. My personal hunch? Their game must be something else."

Rock nodded. "Thanks Bao."

"Pah, don't mention it. Just don't forget to pay your tabs when you get back with the loot! Try and steal a few paintings while you're at it!" Bao laughed as Rock left, slapping the sleeping Gustavo in the head in a futile attempt to get the idiot information broker to wake up. "I pity the poor bastards who have to carry the money. You'd have to be damn near immortal to survive this!"

--

--

**4 Days Ago, 2007**

--

When she reflected on their first meeting, Beatrice would always remember how skillfully this young boy she had met only hours ago had managed to get her to open up so quickly. She couldn't really remember what she said to him in their first conversation before he really started trying to pry her shell open, but whenever Beatrice looked back on that day she knew whatever she had said had spurned this amazing person into sympathizing with her and deciding to take action.

Must have been some seriously depressing stuff.

After a few failed but persistent attempts at conversation, her companion eventually found a topic no cyborg could resist talking about; her handler. Initially focusing on Bernado, Beatrice's new friend managed to use that as a wedge to drive oven her shell.

Within moments, she found herself talking about how she'd felt about their cruise thus far, her unusual taste in music, her love for swimming and a whole range of other topics. In fact, only when he asked about why she chose to come on the '_Madame Liberty_', did Beatrice come to the shocking realization that she had completely forgotten about Ferro while talking to him! Berating herself silently, she stole a quick glance to where the suited woman sat, still reading a newspaper while enjoying her third cup of coffee at the café.

"Really? You've just following your brothers on HIS vacation?" He laughed. "Mustn't be much of a gentleman if he leaves his cute sister all alone on the deck!"

Beatrice bristled slightly at the way her new friend had insulted Bernado, but found herself mentally agreeing with him. Bernado was irresponsible for leaving her all by herself, no doubt about that. "So, what about you? Why are you here?'

"Oh me?" he chuckled. "I'm actually visiting acquaintances of mine. They're part of the crew, so I thought I might as well have a holiday while I'm at it. I'm rarely out of America, so I

had a heck of a time in Indonesia…"

"Friends of yours?"

"Friend of my parents actually. I don't the husband very much." His nervous chuckle wasn't lost on her. "Still, I'm guessing my folks wanted me to sort out my hatchet with them, so here I am."

Wasn't he too young to have a grudge with someone? "So have you? Buried the hatchet I mean?"

"Well, we agreed not to kill each other. That's a start I guess!" He replied jokingly. "He isn't a bad guy once I got to know him better, and his wife is probably the nicest person…"

"Beatrice, it's time we-oh!" Triela Hartmann, blonde pigtails, trench coat and all, strode up to them. It suddenly occurred to Beatrice that the sun had shifted considerably across the sky and her 'shift' as Ferro's guard was over. Had it really been that long?

"Sooo…" Triela grinned ear to ear. Suddenly, Beatrice got an odd premonition; a premonition of an endless stream of teasing about to come her way. "Is good old Bice' getting a social life?"

"It's not like that…" Beatrice tried, but alas, Triela wasn't having any of it.

"Oh, looks like one of our supposed 'work crazy girls' actually can interact with people after all!" Triela said happily. "And who might this fine young man be?"

Beatrice turned to the rather amused looking boy beside her and was about to introduce him when it hit her like a tonne of bricks. In all the things she talked with him, never once had he

mentioned his name. In fact, aside from the fact he was visiting family friends on the ship and on holiday, she knew next to nothing about him! Seeing her wide eyed look, her young friend seemed to catch onto her plight.

"My apologies." He chuckled, tilting his flatboy cap slightly to obscure his eyes. "I guess in all the excitement, I forgot to introduce myself."

Triela placed her hands on her hips in annoyance. "Forgot to introduce yourself? Bice, what kind of friend did you make anyway?"

"I'm really sorry. I'll tell it to your right now!" he smiled holding his tow hands up in an apology.

"My name is… Czeslaw Meyer. You can call me Czes if you want, everyone does. I didn't mean to offend anyone, really!" Czeslaw Meyer… Beatrice filed that piece of information away for further reference.

"Czes, hm?" Triela said curiously. "Unusual name. Where are you from?"

"New York." Czeslaw replied. "You seem to be very protective of Beatrice, Miss…"

"Triela, Triela Hartmann. I consider myself to be Beatrice's protective big sister, so I want to make absolutely sure she doesn't mix with the wrong sort of people."

Czeslaw gave a quick look at Beatrice before turning back to Triela. Beatrice didn't miss the amused twinkle in his eyes… and something else. "She never told me she had a big sister figure. It's nice to see she has once so protective of her."

"Well, now you know." Triela replied. "Well, I've judged you appropriate boyfriend material! Go get her kid!" The blonde have a heartily laugh.

Had Beatrice not been sitting down, she surely would have fallen out of her seat. She was fighting to maintain her impassive poker face. As it stood, it was an impressive achievement for her to limit her irritation to a slight twitch in her lips.

"Aren't I a little too young for this sort of thing?" Czeslaw joked.

Czeslaw Meyer. Not a bad name. What was the meaning behind his name, she wondered?

--

"Hey."

"Ah, kid."

"This is the second time I had to use my real name, on the deck this time. Nowhere near your patrol routes or the bar. I really think there's someone on board."

"Geez, that's another problem…"

"Another problem?"

"Don't worry your head off about it. I'll look into it. It's my turf their intruding on."

"We haven't been approached yet, so I'm curious as to what their game is. Besides, having to go around using 'Czeslaw' might give me come problems later on if I'm not careful."

"You wouldn't have this problem if you used your real name instead of an alias all the time."

"You're one to talk…"

--

--

**Oh Dear! Whatever Will Happen Next?**

--

Next Ep; '**The Lovelace family just wants a normal holiday'**

--

Roberta - (inhuman growl) "Obviously, we're not going to get it…"

Garcia - "I suddenly feel a rising panic coursing through my veins, and it isn't because of the ghost stories Czes is telling us."

Fabiola - "Please don't let the young master get kidnapped again, please don't let the young master get kidnapped again…"

--


	3. Lovelace family want a normal holiday

-

**Disclaimer**

Baccano! is the rightful property of Ryohgo Narita

Black Lagoon is the rightful property of Rie Hiroe

Gunslinger Girl is the rightful property of Yuu Aida

Celes Victoria is the rightful property of Kouta Hirano and Gonzo

--

**Chapter 02**

**The Lovelace family just want a normal holiday**

--

--

**Yesterday, 2007, around 6:00 pm**

--

"Hey Beatrice! Over here!"

Beatrice glanced around the large dining hall in search of Czeslaw's voice. She laid eyes on the familiar flat cap, she felt a small rush of excitement… which was quelled immediately when she noticed the company he was keeping. She had really didn't want to meet those people, and from the looks on their faces, neither did they.

Steeling herself, Beatrice walked up to Czeslaw and the two other people at his table, an apprehensive looking Garcia Lovelace and a startled Fabiola Iglesias. "Hey Garcia, this is the girl I told you about. I met her on the deck. She's a bit quiet so I thought she might open up if she had more friends."

".. .Nice to meet you." Garcia greeted stiffly. "My name is Garcia Lovelace."

The girl in the blue and green sundress warily regarded Beatrice before following her master. "Fabiola Iglesias."

"Nice to meet you both. You may call me Beatrice." In truth, Beatrice already knew their names but put up a façade for Czeslaw's benefit. It wouldn't do to tip off the only one on the table who was still an innocent child that there was more to them than met the eye. Beatrice had very specific orders from Bernado to stay away from these two 'children'. Considering just who Garcia and Fabiola traveled with, it was understandable that the SWA task group did not want to aggravate Garcia's party. Warily drawing a seat for herself, Beatrice felt her mind racing a mile a minute trying to figure out how to get out of this mess.

Why did Czes have to make friends with the oddest people She was ever so thankful that her poker face hid her slight anxiety. Perhaps she was right earlier that day… this _was_ a mistake.

Seemingly oblivious to the hidden-tension around the table, Czeslaw pulled out a pack of cards. "It'll be a while before the come over to take our order, and even longer before we get served our meals. Anyone up for a round of Old Maid?"

--

--

**5 Days Ago, 2007**

--

"Bartender, two of the nastiest things you can cook up if you please."

The mute amber eyed young woman behind the counter nodded affirmatively and promptly went about making the most potent alcoholic concoction she could come up with. Bernado rested his head on the bar counter in exhaustion. "That definitely shaved of a few years off my life."

"No kidding." Hillshire agreed.

There were scary things in this life. As secret service personnel they'd all but come to accept this. From dealing with Triela's antics to getting shot at by Padania, there was no shortage of the moments that made them wonder if they should have gone into a different profession which was lighter on the nerves. But all that paled in comparison to what they had just experienced, for today Hillshire and Bernado had just discovered a whole new level in terror.

"I can't believe they're really just here for a holiday." Hillshire said.

"I can't believe we're still alive after making a fool of ourselves and almost ruining _her _holiday." Bernado corrected.

Having THE Rosarita Cisneros drag you aside and lay out the rules of the jungle for you definitely ranked a new level in the 'asshole pucker meter'.

The only upside to that sordid affair was that surviving an encounter with the famed Bloodhound of Florencia, regardless of the circumstances behind said encounter, was something that would look good on their service records. The downside was the fact they would have to live with the memory of said encounter for the rest of their days, and be the first people in the entire SWA to have needed a change in pants.

A day after first mistaking her for their contact a much 'calmed down' Rosarita, or Roberta as she had taken to calling herself, had systematically combed the ship for their presence. She initially located Triela, and after 'interrogating' the young cyborg (Hillshire had a sneaking suspicion that Triela decided Roberta was only there to threaten the adults and all to willingly led the menacing maid to their room), she had arrived at their cabin and proceeded to terrify the crap out of them.

Literally.

It cost them a set of trousers and underwear, but the SWA handlers got her message; The Lovelace family was here for a holiday and any who dared disrupt this would die a slow painful death.

As much as Hillshire knew Triela was a formidable combatant, he had a sneaking suspicion 'Roberta' was on a whole different level. Besides, why make an enemy out of the most dangerous guerrilla warrior in the world, when all she wanted was to visit the art gallery and let her charges use the on board pool? The chink of glass on the counter signaled the bartender was done. Without a word she deposited the two glasses on the table before them and went about fulfilling other orders.

"We need a raise after this." Bernado muttered despondently.

"Just be thankful the worst is over." Hillshire comforted his friend. "Well, Triela would still tease me for years to come, but as far as this goes I think we're out of the woods."

With a clink, the toasted to having survived the ordeal that made them require a change in underwear and set about trying to forget this whole 'Bloodhound' debacle. Were they going to have a story to tell the guys when they got back to Italy!

Ferro was having it easy.

--

--

**Yesterday, 2007, around 6:30pm**

--

The food had arrived, and the cards were put aside. Unlike before, there were genuine smiles to go around. Czes had done the impossible by diffusing the tension at the table, and now had managed to get Garcia and Fabiola to warm up to their new acquaintance.

"You're good Czes." Garcia said. "You totally wiped the floor with me and Fabiola. Only Beatrice stood a chance against you! Where'd you learn to play like that?"

Their game had gone pretty quickly, with the players seemingly even in ability at first. It spiraled out of control when Czeslaw noticed that Beatrice's poker face actually made her one heck of a card shark and, as if rising to her challenge, he started playing for keeps as well leaving Garcia and Fabiola more or less the dust. Still, they were amazed at how good Beatrice and Czeslaw were. The mood around the table had settled down to a friendlier feel, one expected of four children their age having dinner together.

"Here and there. Mostly with a family friend." Czeslaw said. "You tend to pick up a few things when you have an uncle called 'Luck'."

Another 'family friend'. Czeslaw seemed to have a lot of those. To Beatirce, Czeslaw was this big enigma that drew her in. She couldn't help it, never before has someone ever managed to catch her off guard.

On their first meeting, Czeslaw had somehow gotten most of her details off where while parting with only a few of his own. He took notice of her even though she had situated herself in the least noticeable part of the deck she could find. And more importantly, he successfully pried her attention off Ferro, and then managed to hold it for a better part of that afternoon. Nobody in the spy business had distracted her to such an extent before, lest of all a young child. For lack of a better term, he intrigued her.

"I don't think I've seen anyone play as good as you two." Fabiola said. She'd been to a few seedy casinos herself, and the way Czeslaw was playing reminded her of one of the better high rollers she had seen there. And this was a game of Old Maid, not the final round a poker tournament!

"Really? I never noticed." Czeslaw remarked happily.

"I'm serious, you can Beatrice looked like the pros!"

"Should see me at Texas Hold-Em…"

"Hn?"

"So, you two seem to really like the swimming pool." Czeslaw asked. "From what I hear, you two have been going there ever since we left port."

"Ah, that." Fabiola blushed. Garcia have a slight giggle at the embarrassed blush on her face. "I love swimming."

"Really? Beatrice likes swimming too!" Czeslaw said.

Beatrice nodded in affirmation. Yes she had a hobby of swimming, a skill that made her one of the few cyborgs that didn't sink like a rock in water. Unfortunately with the hands off order on Garcia and Fabiola she had been given, the one time she considered going to the ship's on deck pool was promptly shot down when she saw the two laughing there. She couldn't help but hold it against them for that.

"It's surprising though, that there are so few people at the pool." Garcia observed. "I mean, they're flocking to the casino and the art gallery, but the pool doesn't seem to have so many people…"

Czeslaw gave a knowing smirk. "Ah, that'll be the Rail Tracer."

"Rail Tracer?" Fabiola and Garcia echoed.

Czeslaw smirked. Hook line and sinker.

--

--

**San Francisco, 2006**

--

"Holy Fuck…" The inspector breathed.

"That about summed up all my thoughts, inspector."

The young detective showing her the worst murder seen she'd seen in quite a long time. "This is even worse than that other case I'm currently working on, and that's really saying something."

It was on board a luxury cruise liner, the '_Fabulous Rail Tracer_', named after the American railroad legend of the 1930's. When the grisly scene was uncovered, it had immediately put to port. The initial scene had the water of the swimming pool a grisly shade of crimson with more than two dozen bodies were found floating in it. As soon as the gangplank was up, the passengers and crew had been offloaded in record time, and the local authorities called in.

"I think the scene is pretty self explanatory, but I'll give you a brief rundown." The policeman said. 'As you can see, there's blood everywhere."

"Thanks for stating the obvious. Heck, I'm still trying to figure ot how so much blood ended up on the ceiling. It must be three stories up!" A better question was what blood wasn't on. The entire indoor pool and all the walls (and portions of the ceiling nearly three stories above them) were tainted in crimson. The Inspector had no idea how much blood was needed to make this kind of scene, but with the number of bodies they'd found…

"Well, what you can't see is that somehow it's in the water purification system ma'am."

"How'd it get in there?"

"In addition to the pool, pieces of the bodies were found in the water tanks. Lord knows how they ended in there."

"Pieces?!"

The young officer looked sick just thinking about it. "CSI believes whoever did this disposed of some of the bodies by… grinding them into the reclamation valves, ma'am." The inspector tried and failed to wrap her head around this fact. The amount of strength it must have taken to do that would be phenomenal. "From our count, eleven of the bodies had their throats slit open, those were the clean ones. Five of them have every bone in their bodies broken, and every major vein opened up. Three of them had portions of their bodies missing, we found them in the kitchen microwa…"

"Enough." The Inspector said. "I got the picture. Whoever did this was a real psychopath… but extraordinarily strong as well. The victims?"

"All well known criminals, oddly enough." The policeman said. "We uncovered plans for them to highjack this cruise ship in their cabins, mostly involved wiping out half the hostages and seeing if Uncle Sam would be willing to pay for the other half. Looks like someone had serious objections to them doing just that." The Inspector was indeed flabbergasted.

"So whoever did this might actually saved the ship. Interesting. You sure about this?"

"Well, judging from these plans, they actually saved a lot of lives." The detective said. "We found a lot of guns in the hold and in some cabins. If they'd seen some use, many more people would have died. Still, if someone was going to save the ship, couldn't they have done it in a less messy way? Murder is murder. We'd arrest someone if we even had a clue of what was going on…"

"Any suspects?"

"No fingerprints, no DNA trials… unless you count the boogeyman, we don't have a clue. Forensics turned up nothing, and most specialists say this isn't humanly possible. Everybody on the ship has an alibi… which is why we brought you in." The cop sighed "Some people are even saying the Rail Tracer is back."

"Is that so?" The inspector whistled. "Well, the Rail Tracer did save that one train in the early 1930s."

"Well since we have nothing to go on, we thought we'd bring you in since you have experience with these matters. What kind of person could do this? In one night no less?"

"A person couldn't have done this." Celes Victoria (not to be confused with her younger sister in England, former Police Constable and Hellsing employee Seras Victoria) decided as she began making mental notes on where to begin. "What we have here is a true monster, plain and simple."

--

--

**Yesterday, 2007, around 6:40pm**

--

"The independent inspector they brought into the case concluded that it couldn't possibly have been done by human hands and after fruitless searching, they determined that it only could have been… the Rail Tracer!" Czeslaw concluded. "The revived American railroad legend, come to haunt the ship of the same name!"

Beatrice was thoroughly amused that when Czes finished his story, Fabiola and Garcia hugged each other for dear life in fear of this supposed monster. How cute.

"So? What do you two think? Cool Eh?"

"That was freaking scary!" Garcia said through chattering teeth.

"Well, needless to say, everybody's been a bit queasy about the pools about Gandor Brother's luxury liners." Czeslaw laughed. "Relax, it only happened once. Perhaps the boat just sailed too close to the next Bermuda triangle or something. Only the bad people died. We'll all be fine won't we? It's not as if we've killed anyone before."

Garcia and Fabiola shot each other concerned looks before hugging each other with renewed vigor. Czeslaw raised an eyebrow. "What's up with you two?"

Beatrice on the other hand, was far more composed. As if she had anything to worry about from this 'Rail Tracer'. She was a creation of science, so of course she wasn't buying into this 'mystical evil spirit' nonsense. Czes being a ten year old child, probably blew the story completely out of proportion… And of course, she had some extra knowledge. From reports compiled from Interpol as a study into the unsolved murders on the 'Flying Pussyfoot' transcontinental train it was likely the fabled 1930's railroad legend, the 'Rail Tracer', was just an exceptionally skilled assassin with a flair for theatrics. If he was even alive, he'd probably be over ninety by now.

Hardly something that wouldn't worry someone like her.

Still, she found her mouth twitching ever so slightly at the sight of the three children before her. For some reason, this was rather different from hanging out with her sisters. It felt, more natural, less forced.

Beatrice face darkened.

Could it be that she was beginning to open up to these people? She felt he fists tighten. No. This _was_ a mistake after all! He'd managed to convince her to come down to dinner this time, so it was clear to her he'd managed to worm his way past her defenses somewhat. This was a mistake-

"So Beatrice, what do you think about the Rail Tracer?" Czeslaw grinned. "Scary huh?"

"Hm." She replied.

Yes, she was making the same mistake. Beatrice quickly made her decision. She'd have to leave these people and soon, for their sake and hers.

--

**Yesterday, 2007, around7:10pm**

--

"Yeah, today wasn't so bad was it?" Fabiola giggled. Food had come and gone, and the foursome had sauntered off to the ballroom.

Beatrice had attempted to leave once she realized where they were, but Czeslaw wasn't having any of that. He dragged her out onto the dance floor, and although awkward at first, she now seemed to be enjoying herself (her facial expression hadn't changed one bit though).

Beatrice, although they knew she clearly was an ever present threat, turned out to be good company. After they got past that bored expression of hers, they soon came to realize that she just couldn't express herself for some reason. Perhaps it's because of whatever her government did to her she was so awkward? Government assassin or not, Beatrice was just a shy adolescent girl who didn't know how to interact with other people.

"Czes really is an observant person to realize that. I bet he'll be like Rock when he grows older." Garcia noted. His mind briefly wandered to his Japanese friend who he'd suspected was still shadowing that Italian woman.

"I wonder what possessed Czes to drag one of those Italian agents here?" Fabiola mused.

"Could have been worse." Garcia chuckled. "Could be the one who called me an evil genius."

"I really thought something was going to happen. I mean after that incident with those Italians and meeting Rock..."

"Well it all turned out okay didn't it?" Garcia smiled at Fabiola.

Fabiola smiled back. "You know what? This is turning out to be a normal holiday after a-"

Then a gunshot rang out.

Amidst all the cries of confusion and fear, Garcia moaned with frustration and Fabiola cursed her big mouth.

--

--

**6 Days Ago, 2007**

--

When the brochure promised a '_new exciting way to make memories_', this odd sight currently before Roberta was one she wouldn't forget anytime soon.

"Here is your Ransom money."

Roberta was so surprised; she actually dropped the two heavy suitcases she was carrying. They hit the floor with a resounding thump, as if to echo the sound of her hopes of peace and serenity being blown to smithereens.

"Excuse me?" Roberta asked, quite astounded that the ship had barely set off when she was immediately approached by a woman, flanked by two men in suits, and curiously, two young violin carrying adolescent girls, carrying a metal briefcase in one of the less populated corridors of the ship, offering it to her with those said words. Beside her, Garcia and Fabiola too looked equally confused. They hadn't even gotten to their rooms yet!

"Ransom money. Ten million American dollars in full." The woman said in slightly accented English.

Roberta glanced at her adopted family, and both gave her similar looks of puzzlement, and not a bit of worry. Since the mansion was being renovated to include a swimming pool (Garcia insisted), the three of them decided to have a nice long _normal_ visit to South East Asia, free of gunmen, pirates and other such brigands. One visit to that part of the world to enjoy it for what it was, not having to visit Rock and company because they were in trouble.

This obviously did not bode well.

"Madame." Roberta said sternly. "You must have mistaken me for someone else."

The woman had the gall to look befuddled. "Err… you are Rosarita Cisneros, the Bloodhound of Florencia, right? Terrorist, kidnapper and murderer? Wanted in over ten different countries?" Roberta resisted the sudden urge to punch something. Why is it every time she came to this part of the world, her past kept hounding her? She would have expected this to happen back in her home country, not halfway across the world in Indonesia! Garcia showed less restraint and palmed his face, while Fabiola rolled her eyes.

"Madame. I am merely a retainer of the Lovelace family." Roberta re-iterated sternly. "I do not kidnap people. I do not make ransom demands. I am just here to enjoy a holiday with my young master." She motioned to the smartly dressed Garcia beside her. Garcia quickly straightened up and made himself look striking as possible, which was quite impressive. Despite his young age, Garcia was now the master of the Lovelace…

"So he must be the evil genius you take orders from. A little young bu-"

"Triela!"

Garcia promptly fell on his rear and looked he'd been hit by a bomb. Had Roberta not been in his presence, she would have flown into an unquenchable rage and twisted the blonde's head off. How dare they even suggest that her young master would even think of harming another human being! And she wasn't the only one offended. Fabiola was so mad, she had turned away from the scene in disgust, but Roberta noticed her fists were clenched and her shoulders were trembling …

…wait. Was that a soft snigger?

"Excuse me sirs and madams." A sudden voice cut in. "I'm afraid you're blocking this corridor."

Indeed, a young redheaded steward pushing along a trolley filled with wine bottles was right behind them. Roberta quickly mumbled out a quick apology, scooped up her luggage and moved out of the way. The others quickly did the same. "Why thank you." The steward noted, before moving to push his trolley, when he paused.

"Wait," The steward abruptly said, examining Roberta closer. Suddenly, she felt all her instincts flare, her ingrained instincts blaring out warnings about this man like no tomorrow. Something about him… "There aren't too many people dressed like you around. Were you the one that helped that old couple get on board the ship?"

Roberta nodded. When they were boarding the 'Great Sealiner' an old couple behind them were having trouble climbing the set of stairs to get on board, so Roberta did the polite thing and helped. It was what any reasonable person would have done really. "I didn't think anyone noticed."

"That should have been my job." The redhead smiled warmly. He handed one of the wine bottles to her. "Vintage 1932, on the house. If there's anything you need, don't be afraid to call room service. Enjoy your stay here, sirs and madams." He then tipped his hat and flashed a warm smile at them before continuing on his way.

Roberta looked at the bottle of wine in her hands. Vintage 1932? This must cost a pretty penny! She'd have to make sure it wasn't poisoned or anything before she drank it but… a good omen?

She was probably thinking too much into this.

"Hillshire you brainless German sausage! She isn't the contact!"

"She's Rosarita Cisneros! THE Bloodhound of Florencia! Most wanted woman in the western hemisphere! What was I supposed to think?"

Roberta shook her head. No. This was going to be a normal holiday, just like they all agreed upon. No guns. No poison. No kidnapping or hostage situations. Normal holiday.

You know what? She was going to pretend this whole 'here's your ransom' episode never happened. Let someone else pick up a gun and start shooting for a change (preferably not here)! Quickly motioning to her two companions, the Lovelace trio quickly strode away as dignifiedly as possible from the scene of the unfolding argument.

Normal holiday. Stress _normal_.

--

--

**Yesterday 2007, around 7:10pm**

--

"A' Righ' Everyone! This is a _FUCK UP_!"

Upon recognizing the voice, Garcia silently proceeded to bang his head sorrowfully on a wall.

So much for a normal holiday.

--

**Oh Dear! Whatever Will Happen Next?**

--

--

Preview; '**Revy and Rock just want a quick ten million dollars**'

--

Revy - "Damn straight!"

Rock - "But doesn't 'just want' imply that we are going to run into trouble?"

Revy - "Of course we are! That's part of the fun!"

Bao - "As long as my bar doesn't get blown to hell again, you two can get into as much shit as you want."

--


	4. Revy and Rock want a quick Ten Million

--

**Disclaimer**

Baccano! is the rightful property of Ryohgo Narita

Black Lagoon is the rightful property of Rie Hiroe

Gunslinger Girl is the rightful property of Yuu Aida

--

--

**Chapter 03**

**Revy and Rock just want a quick ten million dollars**

--

--

**Yesterday, 2007, around 7:10pm**

--

"A' Righ' Everyone! This is a FUCK UP!"

"…"

"…shit, not again."

Murmurs of disbelief echoed around the dining hall. Was she serious? She had guns and all, but with a line like that, it was hard to take her seriously. In one of the far corners of the hall, a well dressed blond Jewish man was trying his hardest not to break into fits of laughter. Despite the fact she was now wearing a full body wetsuit and a balaclava, there was no mistaking the bungled entrance of the Lagoon Company's ace gunman, Revy 'Two Hands'.

"Revy, you idiot." Benny sniggered.

--

--

**2 Days Ago, 2007**

--

"So why can't we storm the ship again?" Revy asked for the hundredth time while cleaning her Cutlasses.

"Right now the ship is within range of three national coastguards of major nation states, two of which have been receiving money under the table to protect that their at all costs." Dutch said again without a hint of annoyance. "The Gandor Brothers have a standing agreement with each nation that if one of their cruise vessels were to be attacked while within their waters, the cavalry would come riding to the rescue."

"Why didn't we just bribe the coastguard again?"

"Someone tried that, and the Gandors came down on them like the ex-mafia brutes they were." Dutch said. "Poor bastard had his shoes cemented and dumped into the water just off Puket. Those Gandors are old school, I'll tell you that."

And as with the last hundred times, Revy immediately followed up that with, "And when is this window again?"

"There'll be a certain place and time the 'Liberty will be two hours away from any coastguard protection. That's when we'll move in. We don't have the personnel to hold the entire ship hostage, so we'll just do a quick raid and get out."

"Great. When does that happen?"

"Not for another day."

Revy grumbled. When she heard about this briefcase, she had expected a massive shootout with plenty of bullets and profanities flying. What she actually got, was sitting in the cabin of the Lagoon for what seemed like forever while shadowing the slow moving luxury liner as it went about its business.

What irked her most was that as it was, all the other money grubbing rouges she knew had had the brains to sneak on board as passengers or last minute staff hires, and were probably miles ahead of her in getting to that briefcase. Benny and Rock were among people that had gotten on board under fake identities, and from their infrequent radio calls back to the Lagoon, had identified quite a number of familiar faces among the crew and passengers. No word on the briefcase yet, but it had been a while since Rock last called.

Rock had argued that stealing the briefcase instead of risking a frenzied assault on the ship would me more appropriate and cost effective. She of course, wanting to blow shit up, disagreed. Thankfully before it came to blows, Dutch proposed a bet. Revy and Dutch would do it the gung ho way, and Rock could try his luck at stealing the case with Benny. Winner gets to have a larger share of the loot.

Looks like Rock was winning, if only by a bit.

"What the hell is the glasses bitch doing there anyway?" Revy growled. "I mean, Shen-hua and Sawyer is one thing, but isn't the Loveless family like, nobles or something?"

"He said he talked to Garcia, and they really are just on vacation. He told me about it while you were asleep." Dutch said with more than a bit of humor. "In fact, Rock even said Roberta was approached by a bunch of Italians who thought she was the kidnapper."

Revy's jaw hit the ground. "No."

"Apparently, Roberta even got a clear look at the woman who had the briefcase." Dutch grinned. "Luckily for you, Garcia didn't want anything to do with this business, and Rock was gracious enough to leave him alone after that. Looks like Benny and Rock have a new lead Two Hands."

Okay, Rock was winning by a lot. That bastard!

Revy pulled out a ciggy and lit up to calm her fraying nerves. "All this waiting is killing me!"

Ten million dollars, she just had to keep her mind focused on that golden ten million dollars.

And as long as Rock didn't snatch that case in the next day, she'd have all the excuse to go on board and raise hell as much as she wanted. Then she'd be the last one laughing.

--

Rock on the other hand was too busy assessing the vexing problem before him; how to get that briefcase?

He'd found the Italian woman he'd been searching for. The woman in a very stuffy black suit and tie, definitely not holiday attire, was sitting on one of the observation tables on the deck. She had the metal briefcase with her… but Rock didn't dare approach her, not with that very suspicious looking brunette keeping watch day in and out.

The ex-salaryman once again was astonished at how much his association with the Lagoon crew had changed him. There was a time he would have completely disregarded that young Italian girl with that blank bored stare, but now… he knew the moment he saw her that this 'girl' wasn't someone he wanted to tangle with. Revy was the fighter, not him. If he wanted to snatch the case, he'd have to use his noggin… unlike some other people he had met along the way.

Shen-Hua and her 'crew', if you could call the psychopath and idiot she kept company as her 'crew', still hadn't noticed this Ferro woman yet. In fact their 'so called 'plan' involved checking all the passenger's belongings, cabin by cabin, under the guise of the Liberty's cleaning staff. They were obviously on the wrong track since Ferro took that case everywhere with her, and never once left it unattended. Rock almost felt sorry for them, since he and Benny had a good laugh at the lethal assassin in a laundry woman's attire.

He also knew that Eda and Rebecca, who came dressed in lavish clothes he didn't even know they owned, were winning so much money in the casino the greedy faux-nun had forgotten about the briefcase altogether. He'd even heard security had been called in to check if she'd cheated somehow, but true to form security hadn't found anything.

As for all the other rouges he hadn't noticed, Rock was grateful they had some sense not to start an all out brawl while the 'Madame Liberty' was still in Indonesian waters, and therefore under the protection of the coastguard who had been paid handsomely by the Gandors to prevent people like them from causing trouble.

Still someone was going to make a move on the briefcase, preferably before the handover. Rock knew that person would have to be him. What to do? Rock really wanted to find out that Ferro woman's schedule, but his current cov-

"Hey, new guy. Spacing out again?"

"No, just thinking." Rock said without missing a beat. He was relieved to say, nothing really did shock him anymore.

"The Garcia kid is ordering room service again. He keeps asking for you, don't know why. You're pretty popular for a trainee."

Yet another reason why Rock didn't have as much time to carry out his theft; in an awful coincidence, Garcia and company just had to be vacationing aboard this ship. Although Garcia and Fabiola had initially been 'annoyed' at first (Roberta had initially been outright furious), they eventually adopted on a 'pretend you're not here to steal something' approach, and acted like he was just an old friend they accidentally chanced upon on their much needed holiday.

Rock wondered how stressed out the Loveless family had to be for them to blatantly pretend that most of their acquaintances from Roanapur were on board this very ship planning a theft. He really couldn't blame them. Rock smiled at the memory of seeing Fabiola make a beeline for the pool as soon as she was able to, Garcia right behind her. They really did need this. "Really Charles? I wouldn't have guessed."

"It's a pity you're only a temp. We've been receiving compliments from the passengers about your exemplary service." Charles chuckled. Charles was the head steward, and despite looking like he was only in his late twenties, he'd apparently been an employee for the Gandor Brother's for years. The jolly steward was a happily married man, to the ship's nightshift bartender of all people.

Charles had taken a shine to Rock when he'd first come aboard the ship, and acted like a senior to the part timer. Unfortunately for the head-stweard, Charles attitude did make Rock feel out of place. It reminded him too much of his former life in Japan, what with a 'sempai' watching over his shoulder all the time. However Rock couldn't hold it against the well meaning Charles. Rock hid those feelings well, but the familiarity of it was slightly uncomfortable.

"Is that an indication I'm going to get a raise?" Rock said in jest.

"Nope." Charles chuckled. "Now off you go."

"Aye, aye!" Rock snapped off a mock salute. Straightening out his stewards' uniform Rock set off to collect Garcia's food again, whistling softly to himself. Well, he still had a day to come up with a viable plan. Eda was gambling, Shen-Hua and her team were hopelessly lost, so for all intents and purposes he was ahead of the game.

All he needed was to get that case.

--

--

**Yesterday, 2007, around 7:05pm**

--

Something just had to wrong with his plan.

Face down on the floor of Ferro's cabin in a classic police hold with gun to the back his head, Rock only gave a resigned sigh at the fact he was once again at gunpoint in a life threatening situation. "Sooo… you were handcuffed to the case all this time."

Ferro, standing safely away from him, nodded. "You aren't the contact. This means you're a thief."

"Pirate to be more precise."

Rock's plan to masquerade as one of the kidnappers had fallen through spectacularly. Stage one had gone off just fine. He'd approached Ferro, under disguise of course, and convinced her with his silver tongue that he was her contact. She'd taken him to her cabin, where her German colleague and blonde kid bodyguard were there 'just in case' anything should happen. Brief introductions and all that out of the way, Rock had gotten all the way to the actual handover… when he released he missed one important detail.

She'd _handcuffed_ herself to the fucking briefcase, and the contact was supposed to have the _key_. Rock wondered how he hadn't realized that little detail until her prompt.

It more or less fell apart after that. "I lost it." Didn't quite cut it. And so here he was, wig and faux mustache on the floor, and himself at gunpoint. _Again_. This was getting repetitive. Instead of blind panic, all Rock felt was resignation and disappointment that his plan fell through… and a strange sense of comforting familiarity. Now this felt more like what he was used to!

Good thing Benny didn't come along. He didn't think the hacker the same amount of pain tolerance he did. On another note, he had a very strong suspicion that lady with her left hand handcuffed to the case was going to be in deep shit.

"You're awfully calm for a man with a gun to the back of his head." The pig tailed blonde girl holding him down pointed out.

"Happens to me every other week, nothing special." Rock gave in a casual, uncaring kind of reply. Ferro, Hillshire and Triela shot each other skeptical looks. Oh well, who would believe him? "Anyway, I'd recommend getting rid of those handcuffs Miss Ferro."

"Excuse me?"

"Just a friendly word of advice." Rock said. "Since I've failed at getting a piece of the pie and am now at your mercy, I figure that I should inform you of the _other_ few dozen or so people also out to steal your ten million."

"What?!" All three occupants of the room exclaimed.

"Don't you know? The story about your little mission has been heard from Singapore all the way up to Hong Kong." Rock took a small pleasure in their shocked places. Just a bit more of a distraction and he could use his contingency escape plan…

"And you say 'get rid of the handcuffs'? Don't make me laugh!" Ferro growled.

"I think you'll be singing a different tone when Sawyer comes after you with her chainsaw." Rock calmly informed her. "They just need the 'case you see. Parts of your left arm could be an unwelcome by necessary souvenir."

"I'm not buying this crap." Triela growled. She pressed up her gun against Rock's temple. He merely rolled his eyes. Her temper reminded him so much about Rev-

Distant gunfire, and the sound that was made was one Rock could have recognized anywhere.

"…fuck up…"

"Revy." Rock muttered.

"I'm on it." The German strode purposely out the door, presumably just to check out the situation. Rock found himself hoisted to his feet and roughly thrown onto one of the empty chairs in the room. Despite the flare of pain, Rock's mind was elsewhere. Even as the childlike killer bound his hands behind his back with some rope, Rock couldn't help but shake his head.

Why was he always the dammed hostage? He was a pirate and smuggler who associated himself with the likes of Balalaika and Chang for crying out loud! And since Revy started shooting, this could only mean one thing…

"Now I'm going to ask you a few-" Ferro began.

Rock rolled her eyes. "Here we go again…"

"Eh?"

"Look Miss Ferro, I'd really recommend you get yourself as far away from that briefcase as soon as you can. Someone just started shooting, so the nasties are going to start coming out of the woodwork…"

--

"…FUCK UP!"

"…"

Revy felt her face heat up in embarrassment. "…shit, not again." She could see the quiet murmurs of the confused crowd. She'd been making this mistake ever since that stupid stint in Japan! Quickly re-composing herself, Revy raised her gun again and fired two shots into the ceiling.

"Hey! I'm a mad bitch packing heat! What 'ah say goes pissants! Everyone on the dance floor get down!" Revy had a few blissful moments of ignorance before realizing the corniness of what she'd just said. At least this time they complied. It was then Revy came to an awful realization; there wasn't a briefcase in sight. It suddenly dawned on Revy that perhaps the ballroom wasn't the best place to find a luggage with ten million dollars.

She blinked once, then twice, then… "Shit."

Pivoting on her heel Revy ran right out of the room, leaving a roomful of baffled passengers wondering what the hell was that all that about. As much as she would have liked to secure them, she knew with those gunshots, Shen-Hua and anyone else on board would know the jig was up and come out blasting.

The race was on.

--

"Look, I'm telling you lady. This might to be such a good time to have your hand handcuffed to ten million dollars. It's going to be hazardous for your heath." The captive insisted.

Ferro rolled her eyes in disgust. This guy was the biggest fool she'd ever met. Admittedly, he was a spectacular con-man, but right now he was spouting some nonsense about how her life was in grave danger, and how someone was going to try taking her arm off. This chainsaw lady he kept speaking of… really, what kind of a fool did he take her to be?

It had been ten minutes since Hillshire had left, and Ferro's patience was already wearing thin.

"Look you can still hold onto the ten million." He tried again. "You just have to make sure you can ditch the money in case things get too hairy…"

"This is starting to get annoying." Ferro put her foot down. "This is probably another plot of yours to get the money, so you'd better shut it. I know your face, and I can safely tell you once we get to port, you are a dead man." As much as she wanted to dispose of him here, it was probably better to wait until they formally interrogated him to make sure he was withholding any particular information.

And she did want to dispose of this chatterbox.

"And you're a dead woman if you don't get rid of that chain when the bullets start flying." He maintained. His head was even more level than Jean's, Ferro would give him that. He probably knew they couldn't afford to let him live, yet he was just sitting there and talking as if Triela's gun wasn't trained at him. "The people I know wouldn't bother looking for the key. The second they see your handcuffs, you'd best kiss any chance of ambidexterity goodbye."

"Those cuffs came from the kidnappers. Only they have the key. We couldn't open those cuffs even if we wanted to." Triela supplied.

"Break the chain or something. You just have to find a way to get rid of it in a manner that won't cost you your arm." Triela and Ferro glanced at each other again. That settled it, either he was the most persistent con-man they'd ever had the displeasure of meeting, or Treila had knocked a few screws out of his head when she tacked him to the floor earlier.

"Listen you." Ferro sighed. "I don't know what you are playing at, but you'd best stop trying to get me to remove these handcuffs. I am a graduate of Oxford University, so don't pull this crap on me. Let me re-iterate. We are in change here. First, we can't because we don't have the key. Second, we're not buying your story. Third…" Ferro glared at the Japanese man to drive home her point. "There is no such thing as a chainsaw wielding maniac. Those things only exist in B-grade mov-"

Ferro was interrupted by the roar of a chainsaw.

And then the lavish three inch thick wooden door to her cabin room flew apart as a certain big metal object with a set of metal teeth-like blades tore it's way though the door. The sudden destruction of the barrier between her and the stuff of nightmares completely froze Triela and Ferro.

Into the room stepped a very intimidating and sickly looking young woman, with dark hair and even darker eyes, dressed in an ill fitting laundrywoman's uniform. She had the smile of a predator on her face, her lips decorated with black lipstick of all things. And in her hands…

In her hands…

The woman looked methodically around the room, before her eyes went to the metal briefcase. And then it went to the handcuffs that connected the said briefcase to Ferro's arm. The woman smirked and revved her terrifying power tool of death.

Triela instinctively fired a round at the woman, who effortlessly deflected the nine millimeter bullet with the huge power tool. "…That shouldn't have happened." Triela said slowly, beads of sweat beginning to form on her face. Perhaps it would be a good idea to take her shotgun out of the cupboard now.

Giggling softly, the woman began to advance slowly and purposefully towards the three figures, her eyes focused on Ferro's wrist.

If you looked close enough, you could see the blood drain out of Ferro's face and her jaw slacken.

O' dear departed mother in heaven.

A chainsaw maniac.

"Oh, it's Sawyer." Three guesses as to who said that and the first two don't count. "Sorry to say, but told you so."

--

--

**Yesterday, 2007, around 7:15pm**

--

"Okay boys!" The gruff man shouted. "From the time this baby sets down, We have to seize the damn ship! Let's do it in thirty!"

"Yes sir!"

They were Extra Order, professional private military contractors. They were, in their honest professional opinions, the best soldiers of fortune that money could buy in the South East Asia region. As long as you paid them enough, they would do anything.

Their mission today?

Highjack the '_Madame Liberty_' and oddly enough, 'raise as much hell as they could'.

It was an odd request, but since the company waspaid a few million dollars to do it, they figured they might as well do it. Extra Order had fallen on hard times after their Captain got himself blasted to bits by a torpedo boat of all things. While in a helicopter gunship armed to the teeth. In a game of chicken. It was something of an embarrassment that had caused their reputations to explode as well. What kind of an idiot gunship pilot loses to a freaking torpedo boat?

They were on the verge of losing their ability to buy disposal underwear when the job offer came through. It was an audacious mission, not to mention a certified one way trip to hell with no return ticket. There was no objective to speak of other then the battle itself. Only mindless slaughter and fighting, and dragging out pandemonium and chaos as long as their mortal bodies could.

It was a suicide mission, their client had said so himself. It was no secret that every money grubbing killer in the South China Sea was going to be there, including some of the deadliest men and women to have ever walked the earth, and pissing them off was a sure-fire way for a trip to the morgue.

Just the kind of shootout that would definitely put them back on the map.

Captain Gregory Hammond, a seven foot monster of a man and an ex-SAS lunatic, picked the craziest, bloodthirsty or desperate bastards he could find and decided to set forth to go out in his blaze of glory. Clients want them to raise hell? Gregory and his lads would make that cruise liner the very first hell on earth! The fact their living compatriots would benefit was a bonus, but Greg planned to go down in history as the baddest son-of-a-bitch to have ever hijacked a luxury liner.

Gregory pumped his hand in the air. "Okay boys! Saddle up! We've got a commotion to make!" The roar that was his reply definitely got his blood boiling.

Their helicopter descended upon the helpless ship, signaling the start of the crisis to come.

--

--

**Yesterday, 2007**

--

"Ha-ha-ha-haha! Did you see that? I've never seen a hold up that bad before!"

"…"

"Think so too huh? What kind of amateur runs into the ballroom all by herself, makes the most lame introduction possible and then leaves without securing the hostages?"

"…"

"Really. 'This is a fuck up?' man, I almost mistook her for a comedian! What a joke! I've never seen such an amateur in my entire career!"

"…"

"Think so too huh?"

"…"

"We still have to kill her though."

"…"

--

**Oh Dear! Whatever Will Happen Next?**

--

--

Preview; '**The Commotion Starts with a Bang!**'

--

Ferro - "What is this? Why is this happening to me? I didn't sign up for this!"

Sawyer - (evil snicker)

Garcia - "I'm going to get taken hostage. Again." (throws arms up in frustration) "Just. Brilliant."

Czeslaw - "Darn, I hope Luck put some insurance on this boat."

--


	5. The commotion starts with a Bang!

--

**Disclaimer**

Baccano! is the rightful property of Ryohgo Narita

Black Lagoon is the rightful property of Rie Hiroe

Gunslinger Girl is the rightful property of Yuu Aida

--

--

**Chapter 04**

**The commotion starts with a Bang!**

--

--

**2 Days Ago, 2007, around 7:15pm**

--

"God-dammit! She cut my gun in half!"

Ferro had always considered herself to be on in full control of any given situation. It was part and parcel of her upbringing.

Her father was a general in the Italian military, and so she'd had a disciplined upbringing. As she was the eldest daughter of seven, it fell on her to be a responsible older sister to her more rowdy and mischievous youngest siblings. Since her childhood her family had instilled three things into her very being; discipline, a love for their country and an unquenchable desire to prove themselves.

Her desire to prove herself in the eyes of her parents, siblings and peers was what furled her ambition, and with that ambition, she strove to achieve. She'd always had the top marks in her class, from her first day at school all the way into her tertiary education and into her work at the Social Welfare Agency. Despite the fact her drive had decimated her social life, Ferro thought she'd pretty much archived all she'd set out to do, and was pretty satisfied with it.

Therefore, for a career woman such as herself, screaming and shouting and failing arms was behavior unbecoming of her.

Yet right now she was screaming and shouting and failing her free hand while backing into a corner of her ruined cabin, a young woman who seemed to be the personification of her worst nightmares advancing on her with every intention of hacking her entire arm off with a chainsaw.

Triela had taken the metal safe in the room and was using it rather futilely to block the massive chainsaw after her sidearm had been rendered useless. Despite the small hotel sized safe being designed to be near impenetrable by most ordinary means, the formally box shaped object wasn't holding up to Sawyer's chainsaw too well.

"Oh man… The major didn't teach me how to deal with _this_!" Triela panicked.

"Stop her! Stop her now!" Was that really her voice? Ferro mused. No that couldn't be, that voice was panicked and high pitched. Ferro's voice wasn't normally like that.

"What do you think I'm trying to do!?"

"Here she comes again!"

"Oh god! I don't want to die!"

--

From another corner of the room, flattened against the wall so as to avoid caching any 'crossfire', Rock watched the scene with morbid amusement. Despite the fact that the poor Italian woman was definitely going to die at the rate things were panning out, he did find it rather funny that the formerly composed woman was now shrieking at the top of her lungs.

Hey, she was asking for it.

Rock sighed. Amusing as it was, he couldn't let the woman get carved up now. For one, this meant that Sawyer would get the money, and that the Lagoon crew would be going home empty handed. Another was his battered but still standing morality wouldn't allow him to willingly stand by and let a child, assassin or not, and another human being die when he would do something to prevent it.

"Hey Sawyer…" The Triad's favoured disposal lady barely twitched to acknowledge she'd heard him.

"No hard feelings 'kay? I gotta eat too."

And with that, Rock trigged his 'contingency plan', a set of smoke bombs he'd hidden in his steward's jacket (hey after getting kidnapped for the umpteenth time, even _Rock_ got a little fed up with the 'prince in distress' routine). Ducking quickly to avoid Sawyer's inevitable response to his actions, Rock scrambled across the room, seized Ferro's hand, and dragged her out of the room while Sawyer was still swinging her chainsaw blindly.

Sawyer was going to be pissed later, no doubt about it.

Rock was confident that the assassin kid could take care of herself but obviously this woman professional secret service or not, was a big painted target just waiting to get hit. Dragging the still shrieking woman behind him, Rock really hoped that she appreciated this.

--

--

**2 Days Ago, 2007, around 7:15pm**

--

"Hey Beatrice! Wait up!"

Beatrice ground to a halt. Not out of the command of course, but because of the shock that Czeslaw had actually seen her sneak out of the dining room to pursue the gunwoman and followed her. The young boy ran up and immediately started panting in exhaustion. "Where do you think you're going? Things are getting dangerous, we shouldn't be out here!"

"My room, to find my brother." Of course things were getting dangerous. This was why she was going back to her cabin to get her guns and take orders from Bernado. This high jacking was a clear and imminent threat.

"I'll come with you!" Beatrice flinched ever so slightly at Czeslaw's words. Now here was a clear and imminent problem. "It's dangerous if you go by yourself."

"No." Beatrice replied. She may have wanted to 'play' with him before, but now with the developing situation, playtime is over. "It's too dangerous, I'll be fine on my own." It took her a moment to realize she had just contradicted herself. Beatrice cursed herself silently, if only she wasn't so inexperienced with dealing with other people!

"Beatrice, you're an eleven year old girl!" Czeslaw insisted. "If that crazy lady catches you, who knows what she'll do?"

Well, Beatrice had a good idea of what _she'd_ do to that crazy lady if she came across her. One mortal pirate against a million dollar cyborg assassin. The outcome was all but predetermined. She was also sorely tempted to tell him that he himself was indeed a ten year old boy, younger than she was, and had no business running about trying to get himself killed.

"Czes, go find your guardians."

"Not until I'm sure you're safe." Beatrice bristled at his words. She could very well protect herself. It was the people around her that kept getting hurt. This boy really didn't understand her, not that she could blame him. Looking at his earnest face, a small twinge of guilt had to be squashed, only to be replaced with that emotion she knew all too well.

She was a fool to think that he could be her friend.

Before she could turn him away, she heard it.

Suddenly Beatrice held up her hand, signaling for silence. "What's that sound?" Beatrice said. It was faint, but her enhanced hearing picked it up. And it was getting louder.

Czeslaw shifted his head a bit as if in thought; clearly looking for whatever Beatrice had head. Not that he'd pick it up of course. Beatrice listened for a bit before running over to the railing and looking out over the sea. Something was coming…an then she saw them, three black shadows blotting out the stars, drawing closer to the ship like a pair of menacing beasts.

They clearly were helicopters of some kind, but in the darkness she couldn't make them out.

"What the… those are Black Hawk helicopters!"

And surprisingly, she wasn't the one to identify it. Czeslaw was right beside her, his white knuckled hands gripping the railing tightly while staring wide eyed into the tree helicopters swoop as they past their view and presumably settled over the main deck.

Beatrice felt all the hairs on her back beginning to stand instinctively in alarm.

At that moment, Beatrice saw the face of someone far older than that of a ten year old boy, the apprehension and fear on his face was not that of a child scared of the unknown, but an adult who had a sneaking suspicion of what would happen next and didn't like it one bit.

"Czes…?" Beatrice said.

"Wow, that was scary…" Czes laughed in a manner that suggested he was on the verge of fight. "I think we'd better be finding your brother now." Suddenly, he was a child again, as if the person she'd had a fleeting glance at never existed. For a moment, Beatrice wondered if she was mistaken. But there was only one way to find out.

"My cabin is this way, stick close." And like that, they were off.

Again her new acquaintance was full of surprises, but this time his bolt from the blue really piqued her undivided attention. He identified three fast moving military helicopters at a glance, and he seemed completely certain of where they came from. Beatrice had a sneaking suspicion that her new friend was more than he let on.

--

--

**2 Days Ago, 2007, around 7:25 pm**

--

"Everybody get down on the floor!"

Garcia had just managed to rein in his senses when a second set of more composed people barged into the hall, catching everyone off guard. This time though, Garcia knew they were in big trouble.

The twelve armed men were clad in full body armor, the kind of which he knew US marines wore in battle stormed through the doors and began issuing demands. They were all armed to the teeth with automatic HK36s and other assorted weapons, and had visible grenades on their person. Garcia knew that even with the high quality body armor and automatic weapons that Fabiola could probably dispose of all these men. However, as she was currently unarmed what with having left her guns in their room and the area was filled with passengers…

"Are those mercenaries? They're too well armed to be just average hired guns." He whispered to Fabiola as he calmly laid himself down on the floor as not to arouse suspicion.

"I think they are." Fabiola replied.."

Garcia felt a headache coming on, and no small amount of fear, but he squashed it instantly with practiced ease. Although he was a young child, Garcia Loveless was forced by circumstances to be wise beyond his age, and right now he was calmly aware that he was in a unique position to resolve this hostage crisis thanks to his 'family assets'. He couldn't afford to lose his head, not when the stakes were so high.

"I know. We'll have to take it slowly for now." Garcia decided, listening to the hostage takers bark orders to heard the passengers to a more manageable location. "Fabiola, would you be able to sneak out on your own?"

"Probably."

"Then get out of here, gear up and find Roberta." Garcia commanded softly and sternly. "Your first priority is to rescue the passengers. Next, you find out what these people are up to. Understand?"

Fabiola sighed to herself, so much for a calm and quiet vacation. Here they go again. "Yes sir."

"Don't worry about me. As long as they don't realize who I am I should be fine…" Garcia halted in his speech when he realized his faithful servant had already taken her leave. "Good luck Fabiola." Garcia said softly, worry in his voice. Not for himself, but for the two girls he considered his family, for he knew his coming ordeal would be a paltry one compared to theirs.

Amid a sea of panicked cries and murmurs, Garcia was an island of calmness. Garcia felt his resolve steel now that he sent Fabiola off. Watching the hostage takers intently, the young Lovelace head quietly made himself scarce… and watched.

--

--

**2 Days Ago, 2007, around 7:20pm**

--

The first indication Revy got that people other than Roanapur villains were invading was when she rounded a corner of a corridor and was almost gunned down in a hail of flying lead. "What the fuck!?"

Her quick reaction time allowed her to escape unharmed from the gunfire by ducking back around where she came from. Despite her quick thinking, a shot grazed her forearm. Nothing serious, but just enough to do what every man woman and gun toting grandma who knew the law of the street in Roanapur knew never to do; piss 'Two Hands' off.

In that light, it was fairly predictable that once Revy had actually gotten to 'relative safety' by shirking back into cover and noticed some unlucky bastard had actually scratched her, Revy did the first thing that came to mind.

"Okay! The asshole that just tried to fucking kill me is about to get it!"

Drawing her two heavily customized Berettas, the infamous Cutlasses, Revy did what came natural to a gunman of her disposition. Despite the act automatic weapons were blasting away, she rushed out around the corner screaming havoc, guns ablaze.

It wasn't much of a fight really. The two men shocked by her brazen act, certainly paid for the erroneous decision to fire on her. Despite their heavy military grade body armour and automatic weapons, both men dropped like sacks of potatoes thanks to well placed shots right though the eyes. The bodies landed on the ground with two resounding thumps. Grinning like a lunatic Revy holstered her faithful 'swords'. "How's that cocksuck… whoa, hold up. Is that body armour?"

It was only after she'd felled the two men did Revy realize that her victims were far from the usual people you'd expect to find on the 'Madame Liberty'. Searching though the fresh corpses, Revy quickly found their ID cards. She instantly recognized the emblem on them.

"Extra Order? What's that failure of a mercenary company doing all the way out here?" She said with a small measure of surprise before donning her excited smile, the one she always wore when her blood got going. "Nah, why bother wondering? If they're here, they're here and that gives me something to shoot at."

Of course, saying and thinking are two different things. Revy had realized that in all probability, the mercs were here to highjack the ship and nab the ten million before Lagoon could. What else could they be here for? Sampling the fine vintage? In any case, this worked out well for her. After all, if they secured the hostages and made some ransom demands…

"Then I can just take my time." Revy said with delight, sauntering away in her own time. "Looks like things just got fun!"

--

Only moments after Revy had left the scene, an amused voice spoke from the shadows. "Hm… Okay, maybe you're _not_ an amateur after all." From those shadows, emerged a man.

"I'd have pegged you for a regular 'Ladd Russo', all brawn and no finesse, but that was some fine shooting lady." He whistled at the handiwork. He could already tell, this gunwoman was going to be a real problem. The problem was that the problem was a _lady_. Despite his feelings on the matter, as a gentleman, he was obligated do her the favor of a quick and painless demise as he was a proper gentleman. And he really had been moments away from it too, had it not been for these odd people.

The man walked over to the bodies, careful to avoid the spreading pool of blood, and nudged the prone body with the tip of his shoe. The shot was clean, but the mess left behind… Hey, it wasn't _his_ kill. Anything he did in would be more 'elegant'.

"I wonder what your story is?"

"Randy, Lyle, are you two asses slack- Holy Fuck!" Another two soldiers had come about, possibly to check why their dearly departed comrades were taking so long, only to find an unarmed man standing over their corpses. "Don't move you son of a bitch!"

Despite the fact two high powered rifles were aimed at him, the shadow didn't even bat an eyelash. "It really annoys me that so many unsavory people are coming on board to cause problems for our precious customers. What _are_ our passengers going to write on the feedback forms?"

--

--

**2 Days Ago, 2007, around 7:20pm**

--

"Drop to the ground and put your hands above your head!"

Eda looked up from her game of Omaha and furrowed her eyes. Ohy, Ohy, Ohy… What the hell was this? She was winning for goodness sakes! Couldn't these inconsiderate men have just had waited a little more?

Faced with superior firepower, casino security who was armed with nothing more than batons and the odd popgun surrendered without a fight. The people around her were already scrambling out of their chairs and laying themselves flat on the floor. Despite the urgency of the situation, Eda quickly scooted over to the other side of the table and…

"I knew it… he was bluffing!" Eda seethed with rage as she slowly laid herself flat on the floor. God damn it! She almost swept the table with that last hand! Those four armed men now shouting out demands must have been sent by the devil himself to stump out her winning streak! Damn these hostage takers! Damn them all to hell!

But a quick glance out of the corner of her eye told the false sister she'd have her revenge.

"Everybody here line up against the far wall! Now!" The leader of the four men bellowed. Faced with the prospect of those heavily armed men, the (mostly) timid passengers were all too willing to comply. Eda on the other hand, was merely counting down the seconds.

"Empty your wallets, jewelry and valuables!" Five. Four. Three…

"If you value your lives, you will list-" Zero.

"Here I come, Sis-E!" And with those words, a little girl carrying all the firepower and explosive ordinance of an entire marine fire team came busting through the casino doors. Rebecca immediately opened up with her FN2000 on the startled mercenaries, careful not to hit any of the passengers.

Despite Rebecca's somewhat mediocre aim, one of the men fell instantly to the hail of gunfire from the young gunslinger. The survivors quickly dove behind whatever cover they could find. One kicked over a Roulette table and had every intention of using it as a shield before one of the _passengers_ blew the man's head off.

"Damn Eda! Your kid is a lifesaver!" The Hawaiian shirt wearing man chuckled while holding a smoking sawn off shotgun. "I owe ya one! Remind me to buy you a beer when we get back"

"You were bluffing asswipe!" Eda swore angrily as she drew her own weapon. "You owe me more than a drink!"

"What th-" One of the mercs managed out before he noticed that a surprising number of casino goers, including Eda, had drawn the weapons that they'd hidden on their persons. Since they previously had put everyone up against the far wall, the mercs now seemed to be facing a veritable firing line of Roanapur style punishment. Suddenly faced anything from a lowly derringer to a full sized M60 machine gun, the merc could only manage out his last words;

"You've gotta be shitting me."

Then he and his buddy were promptly blasted to bits.

--

"Did I do good Sis-E? Did I? Did I?" Rebecca pestered her 'older sister' eagerly.

"Yes, you did." Eda ruffled the young girl's hair affectionately. The casino was a mess, with all the gambling facilities destroyed and the entire far wall now looking like the Yellow Flag on a bad day.

"Good job."

"You know, I can do it faster if I use my grenades Sis-E! Can I huh? Pleeeese?"

"Um, let's not go there…"

The four would-be-hijackers were all dead, two now resembling unrecognizable lumps of meat despite all their equipment. The non-Roanapur passengers, although grateful at first, found out too late that they'd only been saved from wolves by a pack of hyenas. Before they knew it, anyone not having a gun was in a corner, stripped of their jewellery and valuables and were now even more scared than they were at the hands of the mercs.

"Shit, I feel like a hero." One of the Roanapur bandits who had snuck aboard complained quite loudly about that. "I can't believe we just foiled a hijacking. Aren't we the bad guys?"

"This is embarrassing. Almost having been taken hostage? When my momma hears about this..."

"I dunno about foiled… those bastards probably got the ballroom first. That's what I'd do." Another pointed out. "Still, who the hell do these punk mercs think they are? They wanna steal the briefcase too?"

"What!? These fuckers want to steal the case? I didn't spend the entire trip cleaning up shit in the toilets so that they can do this to me! Fuck this, I'm capping the lot of them for even thinking about it!" A female voice cried in outrage.

"Count me in, I was on a roll! Their little 'game' just cost me sixty grand!"

And the horde of Roanapur scum came to the general consensus that the uninvited guests to their little treasure hunt had to be dealt with. At the antics of the people who lived around them, Eda and Rebecca glanced each other and gave a good laugh.

"It never changes, right Sis-E?"

"Yes indeed, yes indeed!"

Well, it wasn't as if the case concerned them too much. This ought to keep those nasties busy for a while.

…but what of the Package?

--

--

**2 Days Ago, 2007, around 5:30pm, Italy time (!!)**

--

Pricilla yawned and rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Another boring day at the office."

"Uh-Hm." Olga agreed from across the canteen table, never once taking her eyes off the newspaper in front of her.

"God… NOW I wish we'd taken up the mission when it was offered to us." Priscilla said regrettably. "What were we thinking? Put Ferro in charge so that she can loosen up? Now I have to deal with Jean 'stick up his ass' Croche until Ferro gets back!"

"Uh-Hm." Olga agreed, still reading her newspaper.

"I bet this was why Lorenzo looked like he wanted to start laughing when be broached the idea!" Priscilla continued. "That man is evil! Pure evil I tell you! Soon as Ferro was gone, where did he stick us? With Croche! He knew what a torture we were in for, but instead let us going along with our harebrained plot! And then Jean… oh Jean… I thought he was a total dick before, but now…!"

"Uh-Hm." Olga agreed, still reading her newspaper.

"No wonder why Ferro's so stiff!" Priscilla complained. "Doing the occasional job for him was bad, but now I have to follow his sorry ass all over the place like a little puppy dog. And he treats me like one, the ass! 'Jump', he says. 'How high' I'm supposed to go? The Jerk!" Priscilla slammed her fork down into her instant noodles to emphasize her point.

"Uh-Hm." Olga agreed, taking a sip from her coffee while noting her stocks had gone up.

"Ferro is probably having the time of her life right now." Priscilla complained again.

"Uh-h…"

"…and in other news, the luxury cruise ship, the 'Madame Liberty' has been hijacked by an unknown group of soldiers. Details are still forthcoming, but what is known is that they have overrun the ship and taken at least one thousand people hostage. One of the owners of the vessel, Luke Gandor, has already diverted his China business trip to fly into Bangkok to…"

"…" Priscilla was gaping open mouthed the canteen television set.

"…" Olga had dropped her coffee.

And then the PA system came on. "All SWA staff on duty are to immediately report to the briefing room. I repeat. All SWA staff currently on duty is to report to the briefing room immediate-"

The screech of chair and the splash of water as the instant noodles were knocked over signalled the two women had left for the briefing room in a hurry.

--

**Oh Dear! Whatever Will Happen Next?**

--

--

Triela – "Hey! I looked pathetic in this chapter! What gives? Well at least I get to do the preview. Lets see… next episode is…"

Aurora – (shoves way past Triela while running like hell) "R-R-R-RAIL TRACER!!"

Triela – "… what was that?"

--

Preview; '**One bad thing leads to another, and freaky stuff happens**'

--


	6. One bad thing leads to another

-=-

**Chapter 05**

**One bad thing leads to another, and freaky stuff happens**

-=-

Yesterday, 2007, around 7:45pm

--

Stumbling into the men's changing room, Ferro and her benefactor finally were able to take a breather from their flight across the Liberty.

"I think we've run far enough." Ferro's unexpected saviour declared confidently. The Italian woman slumped against the wall, her entire body still trembling in fear. "I wouldn't give it long before Sawyer picks up the trail, so I wouldn't stay here too long. She is if anything, tenacious…"

"What the hell was that?" Ferro half shouted at the man. "She was using a chainsaw! She was trying to cut my _arm_ off!"

In all her years in the service of her government, Ferro had never come across something like that. Sure, she had faced her share of bombs, knives and flying bullets, but there was something very primal about the thought of being torn to shreds that made her lose her composure. On top of that, Triela couldn't protect her.

Never in her entire time in the SWA had Ferro actually seen something almost best one of their million euro assassins. Sure she'd heard the stories about Triela's rivalry with the so called 'the dutiful child', but this was the first time she'd actually witnessed Triela Hartmann, _the _Triela Hartmann, almost get torn to pieces.

The worst bit of it all? She'd only just realized in her hurry to escape from death, she'd dropped her gun somewhere along the way, leaving her completely unarmed and defenceless if the chainsaw girl were to appear again.

The flight away from the chainsaw woman was messy. The ship was a huge smelting pot of chaos at that point. While the immediate ballroom area and casino had been attacked by the invaders relatively quickly, the majority of the ship had taken much longer to quiet down. Ferro and her savior had to run though corridors upon corridors filled with of frightened, confused with the closest thing Ferro had ever seen to a living breathing Jason Voorhes hot on their heels.

It was only because the mercenaries appeared and started shooting at the only armed person in the crowd were they able to escape. But at the cost at so many innocent lives… The screams of the passengers behind the two fleeing forms simply reinforced her fear. Poor souls, caught in between a horror movie monster and its prey… Ferro didn't look back, but she could imagine what was just happening behind her. She was so distressed, Ferro even thought she saw a cleaning lady whip out a whole lot of bladed weapons at one point and impale one of the menaries with them.

Dear departed mother in heaven… what would happen if that _thing_ caught up with them?

The thief in the steward's uniform shrugged. "Well I warned you about that didn't I? Now all we have to do is figure a way to get you away from those…"

"How can you be so calm?! She was using a chainsaw! She was barely older than my youngest sister and she was using a chainsaw!" Ferro hyperventilated. "And did you see her face? She was enjoying every minute of trying to carve _me_ up! How is that normal?!"

The man gave a sigh at her state. "Panicking is not going to help."

"She was killing everything between me and her! I think panicking is perfectly reasonable in a situation like this!" Ferro spat in his impassive face. "What are you, some kind of ice man? That was a young female version of Jason trying to kill me! How can you be so calm."

The steward's poor attempt at calming her nerves and trying to pacify her was unappreciated. "Look, if you can't handle Sawyer, when the more dangerous people start coming after you I'm not sure how you're going to hold up."

Ferro paused. "More dangerous people?"

Oh sweet mother in heaven… more dangerous people other than a chainsaw manic?

"Well, there's Shen-Hua for starters. She's this transporter with lots of knives and kung-fu… I think we came across her earlier."He said as if reading off a mental list. "She's Sawyer's close friend, so now that Sawyer knows about you, meeting Shen-Hua is all but inevitable. Then there's Eda… she's one of the best marksmen I know, and a professional gunrunner to boot. Her partner is this kid with more grenades that Rambo's ever touched, so I think you'd best avoid them if you can. I'm betting you won't survive being blown up. I remember seeing Nicolai and Jaffa down trying to steal some of the paintings in the art gallery. They're not as bad as Eda or Shen-Hua, but they're generally this two man machine gun team so that's bad in any scenario…"

"Hold up." Ferro interrupted, feeling rather queasy at the moment. "Okay, so this… Sawyer isn't the only person on this ship out to kill me. Just give me the rough figure and spare me the details."

"Well they aren't out to kill you, just take your briefcase…"

"Just tell me the damn figure!" Ferro shouted as she braced herself, her white knuckled hold on the briefcase she now cradled to her chest getting tighter every second.

The man exhaled and gave a look of unadulterated sympathy. "I can't give you the exact figure, but judging how many people I'd seen thus far and how many I think have heard about your briefcase… I'd say anywhere from fifty to a seventy."

Ferro the world becoming very distant, as if she were somehow walking in a dream. This was a nightmare. "I need a seat." The steward helped her hobble on unsteady legs onto one of the benches in the changing room, she promptly sat herself down. "Is there anything good you can tell me? Anything at all?" Ferro asked in a small voice.

"Well, Lotton's here too. He's essentially harmless as long as you take him out before he gets through his introduction speech, so I think that's one less person to worry about."

Like that made her feel any better.

-=-

-=-

Yesterday, 2007, around 8:00 pm

---

Beatrice had returned to Ferro's cabin to discover a huge gaping hole where the door used to be, and wooden splinters lying all over the plush carpet. A quick inspection of the room turned up Triela's sidearm, nicely sawn in half. Neither the gun's owner, the Handlers nor Ferro were anywhere in sight. Most of the doors around her room were wide open, their occupants probably fleeing in the confusion, or herded away by the hostage takers already. In any case, Beatrice quickly realized that the entire hotel area was likely compromised.

This was even worse than she could have imagined.

"What happened to your room Beatrice?" Czeslaw gaped at the destruction that now surrounded them.

"I don't know." She answered truthfully. Truth was, it wasn't her room. Hers and Bernado's was the one just across the hall. However, since Ferro was this room's occupant, it might as well have been her room that had been rained. The current state of the cabin meant that the SWA taskforce had indeed been attacked by an unknown party.

She could already guess the reason.

Moving across the hall to her cabin, Beatrice made a beeline for her violin case, containing her TMP. She didn't dare take it out yet, not with this civilian following her about.

"Czes, go back to the ballroom."

"What are you going to do?" Czeslaw asked in a fearful voice.

"I need to find my brother." Beatrice maintained. In the event of a crisis such as this one, all extra junior operatives fell back on the basest of their conditioned instincts; find their handler to receive orders on how to proceed. Whereas someone like Triela might decide to show some initiative and start exploring on her own, Beatrice didn't have much of a clue on how she should proceed. Secure hostages? Find Ferro? Lay low until the Calvary arrived as unlikely as that would be?

She had to find Bernado. It was her first priority, The prime directive of her conditioning. Find her fratello and then everything else would fall into place.

Czeslaw on the other hand, had very different ideas. "Your room was just ransacked! Someone carved a gun in half! This is dangerous Beatrice. We should find a somewhere for you to hide while I find an adult…"

It would be only until later that she'd realize Czes was more worried about her safety rather than his own, but at the time she found his words slightly insulting. She could take care of herself, thank you very much! "I need to find my brother." She maintained. "He's my brother. I need to know if he's safe… you understand right?"

Czeslaw looked at her apprehensively for a moment before his face steeled in an iron resolve. "Then I'm coming with you. It's much too dangerous for you to go alone."

What a nuisance!

Czeslaw was quickly becoming a thorn in her side. Beatrice weighed her options carefully. As much as she'd love to lose her unwanted hang on, Beatrice wasn't the most talkative person and Czeslaw had already proven himself to be the better of her in an argument, so trying to convince him to get to safety when he had a face like that would be a problem. There was always the option of forcefully containing him, but there was yet another pressing issue.

She was almost certain that if the ship was hijacked by now, that sending Czeslaw back to the ballroom would simply make him just another hostage, which would cause problems later on when she had to rescue them. There was also the risk of the hostage takers executing the hostages, and putting Czeslaw in a situation like that was conduct unbecoming of a member of the Social Welfare Agency. After much internal debate, Beatrice decided that taking him with her until she could find an appropriate place to conceal him. While risky and might impede her ability to fight it was a preferable choice than to leave him to the dogs. He was an innocent child after all, and one of the responsibilities Bernado had instilled on her was the protection of the innocent.

"Okay, you can come." Beatrice decided. At least until she'd found a better place to hide him, Czeslaw would be safer under her watch.

Reflecting on those words thoughts much later, Beatrice would giggle quietly to herself and marvel at how woefully unprepared when she started on that that trip with the 'boy' named Czeslaw Meyer.

-=-

-=-

Yesterday, 2007, around 8:15 pm

---

"So you found the case yet?" Dutch asked over the radio.

"Not yet." Revy said while sprinting down a length of corridor. It was mostly empty, the few dozen passengers and sailors she chanced across fleeing in terror once they realized she was armed and very dangerous. It was amazing how quickly the corridors had emptied given the fact the ship had over a thousand passengers and crew, but given the gunfire she could hear in the distance, it wasn't hard to guess why. "I haven't seen the briefcase yet. Haven't seen Rock or Benny either."

"Need me to come up there? I'd prefer to keep the engine warm in case we need to run, but I saw some choppers fly onto the deck earlier, and that's got me concerned." Dutch asked.

"Yeah, they're from Extra Order. Can't believe they're still in business." Revy grinned cheekily. "They're a couple of Limpdicks who don't know what's coming to them, so don't worry about them. Just sit tight and keep the engine warm. I'll get that case, no problem."

"Sure hope so. I got a bad feeling about this. Dutch out."

Placing the handheld radio back into its watertight pouch on her wetsuit, Revy gave a small smirk. She was supremely confident in her abilities and could already taste warm victory in her mouth. Truth be told, she was less interested in the money than proving her point to Rock. Stupid office collar idiot thought he could just walk and make off with the money without a fight… pah! Boy was she going to enjoy rubbing her victory in his face.

Even better if he got himself into trouble and she had to ride in to save his sorry butt again. She would grudgingly admit that she was a bit worried about Rock, and the real reason she wanted Dutch to stay on the Lagoon with all the First Aid Kits was because she feared something would go terribly wrong. With the amount of bloodthirsty maniacs on board, it wasn't a stretch of the imagination that someone could get hurt and a quick getaway would be required (perhaps even to a hospital)… however in the face of her impending victory and gloating privileges, she almost forgot about it!

In her hurry, Revy almost ran by a right by an impressive looking door with big bold lettering on the top.

"Art gallery?" Revy mused."Wouldn't hurt to have a look."

-=-

-=-

Yesterday, 2007, around 8:20 pm

---

Triela was ready to admit she didn't have a clue what to do next. Her sidearm had been cut in half, Ferro had gone missing, she couldn't find that idiot Hillshire anywhere and the ship was now swarming with all manner of rouges with firearms and more than a few sharp pointy things… Triela Hartmann, meet anarchy.

After their prisoner had bombed the room with smoke grenades and abducted Ferro, Triela had joined the chainsaw lady in the ultimately fruitless chase. Triela had kept up her pursuit, but ended up being separated from the trail after she'd tripped and fell on one of the corpses of the innocent passengers caught in the crossfire. Strangely, said innocent passenger was holding a huge minigun in his cold dead hands, but Triela didn't have time to dwell on that much.

Further problems relating to screaming confused passengers, people in military uniforms hijacking the ship and doubling back because she'd decided to get her Winchester to deal with all the dangerous threats popping up everywhere had cost her the trail. Now Ferro was somewhere aboard the ship without a guard.

This was quite unlike anything she'd dealt with before. It seemed like the entire ship was on a voyage to the ninth circle of hell. It was the only way she could explain the freaky chainsaw lady and the horde of hijackers that suddenly were appearing from nowhere and the fact several of the passengers were actually whipping out firearms and other assorted weapons of their own to fight back.

Absolute bedlam.

Sporadic gunfire could be heard throughout the ship, so it was clear that something was going on. Armed with her trusty shotgun, Triela stalked the corridors, avoiding contact with anyone she met while searching fruitlessly for her missing compatriots. She was certain she'd only just missed Beatrice, since the other cyborg's violin case was missing when Triela had gone back to retrieve her trusty 1897.

After much consideration, Triela decided to look for Hillshire first and make sure the idiot hadn't done anything stupid. He'd been gone quite some time, and she was… concerned… he might have, in his bungling way, done something stupidly heroic and landed himself in another mess. "That stupid idiot. I wonder what kind of…" Triela started.

Then the screams came.

"AHHHHHH!"

"OH MY GOD! HE DOESN'T DIE WHEN HE'S KILLED! RUN SATSUKI!"

" WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS SHIP?!"

"SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! RUN, RUN, RUN!"

Suddenly, without warning, Triela was then unceremoniously bowled over by most peculiar trio. A little girl (who seemed vaguely familiar) was running down the corridor, arms failing wildly. She was followed by an equally distressed purple headed young woman wearing a purple uniform who in turn was followed by a crimson eyed brunette wearing a Japanese school uniform of all things.

"R-R-RAIL TRACER!"

The trio shrieked at the top of their lungs and simply pushed their way past Triela, not even noticing the shotgun the cyborg was armed with, and took off like the proverbial bats out of hell down the corridor. Sitting on her behind on the floor, Triela could only balk.

"This is getting weirder and weirder by the minute."

Triela quickly took off in the direction they had come, her trusty shotgun at the ready. Civilians just came screeching down the corridor, and that itself was cause for concern. She didn't hear any gunshots from that direction, but not everyone on this cruise ship to hell used firearms. She just met a crazy lady who used a chainsaw! In any case, something was up ahead…

And lo and behold, Triela rushed straight into the young Lovelace maid, now dressed in her maid uniform and now armed to the teeth, also having come to investigate the commotion.

"Gah!"

"Shit!"

Both girls were sent tumbling into a tangled heap of limbs… and despite that, they'd somehow managed to press their respective weapons against each other's foreheads. An eerie silence fell over the two of them as they lay in the center of the corridor.

"Is that a MAG-7? I knew you people were crazy, but that's…"

"You again." Fabiola exclaimed.

"Yeah, me!" Triela said through a grimace. "So, out terrorizing little children? I should have known you'd show your true colors sooner or later."

Fabiola gave a small grimace. "Says someone carrying a trench gun. A brutish weapon to match a brutish girl."

Triela bristled slightly at the comment, but noted that her new adversary didn't seem to carry any real hostile intent. "You're not quite unarmed yourself." Triela eyed the MAG-7 that was pressed against her brow. "And those guns are something only a loon would use. Overkill much?"

"I haven't done anything." The maid stated plainly. "In fact, now that I think about it, you might just be the person I'm looking for Senorita since I have not been able to locate the head-maid."

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed with your 'head maid' telling us to stay the hell away and all."

"My young master is a hostage in the ballroom." The maid said slowly, as if to carefully gauge Triela's response. "I know you're working for the Italian government." Of course she knew. Hillshire's soiled pants were testament to the fact that Roberta had wrung every piece of information he held out of him. "I would like to ask your help to rescue my young master and the other passengers."

Triela would have done it anyway at some point, but it irked her that one of the high and mighty Lovelace's maids was coming out and asking stuff from her after what they did to her handler (in some far corner of her mind Triela possessively hoarded the exclusive the right to torment him). Triela gave a savage grin. Wouldn't hurt to yank her chain a bit. "So, the family servant isn't good enough for her master. Some maid you are. Why's he paying you if you can't take out a few crazies?"

Okay, so maybe a chainsaw wielding psychopath that could block bullets was something that probably needed two fully armed SWAT teams and perhaps an airstrike or two to take down, but this kid probably didn't know that. Despite the fact her eyebrow was twitching, the maid kept her cool.

"Senorita, you do not seem to know about the PMCs now in control of the ship."

"PMCs?" Triela tiled her head in confusion. Normally, she would have brushed the girl off with such a ridiculous idea, but with the way things were going lately…

"Yes. I have been sneaking around the ship and have overheard some distressing talk between the high-jackers. This ship has been high jacked by large number of Extra Order personnel. They are heavily armed and very dangerous. Given the severity of the situation, it would be prudent to put aside our differences and consider the common enemy."

"You may have a point there." Triela conceded.

"I need to find the head maid and relay the young master's orders to her."

"Hopefully 'kill 'em all' isn't what he's asking of her is it?"

"Contrary to your beliefs, Master Garcia is a kind and upstart indi…" The maid trailed off as her eyes went wide. Likewise, Triela found herself feeling a wet sensation crawling up her ankle. Glancing down, simultaneously, the girls were treated to an alarming sight.

"Senorita, is that blood?"

A pool of blood was seeping out from under a door that the two girls were lying in front of. It was a rather… sizable pool of blood, and was growing at alarming rate. In fact, it had only just gotten big enough to come in contact with their lower legs.

"What on earth…"

---

"Santa Maria!"

"Christ Almighty!"

It was like a scene from hell. Both gunwomen's jaws dropped in horror. It suddenly became a contest of trying hard to maintain the sensation of their limbs or prevent themselves from retching. Had they been lesser people, they certainly would have. As it stood, the sight before them was really testing their hardened nerves.

"Did you do this?" Fabiola asked shakily.

" What kind of question is that? Do you think I'm even capable of this?" Triela replied, her voice coming out as a little squeak.

This was must be what those girls were screaming about earlier.

The cabin was one of those that belonged to one of the many guests on the ship. It was a small one room cabin, with a bed, window, desk… it would have been an ordinary room were it not for all the grisly things in it.

There was blood on everything, on the floors, on the walls, and even on the ceiling! The abundant quantity of crimson seemed to be coming from pieces of hacked up meant littered in places all over the room. These chunks of flesh were so mutilated, they could have been mistaken for minced meat from the butcher's shop, had it not been for the fact that some parts of them were deliberately left intact enough to resemble actual body parts.

Someone had actually nailed the chest cavity of one of the bodies to the ceiling with a fireaxe, and the blood was dripping down from there in the most eerie fashion.

On yeah, and there were the two still intact decapitated heads on the open window sill of the room.

"What the hell…" Triela murmured shakily as she began walking towards the heads. "I've never seen anything like this."

Unexpectedly Triela was seized by the shoulder by the maid. Triela was alarmed at first, until she noticed the girl was pale as a sheet, eye dilated and mouth trembling. She was pointing at something frantically, as if the death itself had reared its ugly head. "L-L-L-Look! The Mirror!"

And on the wall mounted mirror was a message from the killer, written in the blood of the victim for the world to see.

'Rail Tracer'.

-=-

-=-

Today, 2007, around 1:10pm

---

" That was a long flight…. I'll need coffee." Priscilla complained as she stumbled out of the taxi. Dark circles under her eyes, rumpled clothes, dishevelled hair, it was hard to believe that this woman was the perky information specialist that was so often called upon by Jean to do his footwork. A lack of sleep and an uncomfortable flight would do that to a person. "One way nonstop via private jet. Sounds good until you learn that Alfonso's going to be flying it."

"Hn." Olga nodded. The Russian woman swiftly pulled her luggage out of the car boot, looking much better than her colleague.

"Why are we in…" Priscilla tried to remember the name of the city she'd only heard of a day ago, "Roa-na-pur again? Everyone else has gone to Jakarta, but instead you manage to convince Lorenzo of all people that we should come here."

"I have a contact here." Olga said with some distaste in her mouth. Paying the Taxi driver, the Russian woman seemed to be thinking hard about something. "Although I haven't spoken to her in almost ten years, I think she'll still lend me her ear... hopefully."

They began walking towards this shady looking building with the words 'Yellow Flag' over the entrance. "Ah you contact… just occurred to me, I never asked you about her. Who was she again?"

"…My older sister, Balalaika. She's the local Mafia boss." Olga said as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

Priscilla promptly tripped and fell flat on her face.

-=-

-=-

**Oh Dear! Whatever Will Happen Next?**

-=-

-**Revy stumbles into a physical impossibility in the Art Gallery**-

Vino – "So first my kills. What do ya think? Pretty splendid if I do say so for myself."

Czes – "You… are disgusting."

Chane – "…"

Vino – "Yes Chane my dear, I do look rather smashing in red don't I?"

Czes – "…You two are impossible."

-=-


End file.
